A God Can Bleed
by easybutter
Summary: Here are the first few chapters of my in-progress novel "A God Can Bleed." It takes place after Rome's conquest of Egypt. Gods, goddesses, and monsters from the world's mythologies interact in a story of war, romance, unlikely alliances, and backstabbing. It was inspired by GRRM's Game of Thrones. Enjoy!


_A God Can Bleed_

By Erik Ligas

_**Prologue**_

They were near Thebes now. Minerva stood at the front of the ferry, scanning the eastern shore for the dock where they were supposed to meet their host. She was dressed in a white robe with gold armor covering her shoulders and chest and a gold war helmet on her head. Her brother Mars in the back of the boat spat over the side, a gesture he had done many times since they had left Greece whenever he wanted the others to notice how unhappy he was. Minerva focused her gaze ahead, trying to ignore her brother. She had listened to his complaints and protests during the whole journey and was tired of it. She yearned for the sight of the dock, which would indicate the end of the voyage.

Charon pushed the ferry ahead for another twenty minutes before a wide, wooden platform extending almost a hundred feet off the shore came into view. On its edge there appeared to be a dark figure of a man, though it was difficult to see due to the sun's intense reflection off the Nile's surface.

"There," said Minerva pointing at the dock, "that must be it. Charon, take us in."

Charon looked at the Roman Goddess of War, his skeleton face hidden underneath the hood of his black robe, and nodded. Minerva suspected he was just as anxious as she was to finally get rid of Mars. This was not his normal routine. He was forced under Jupiter's orders to abandon his usual job of ferrying souls across the river Styx so that he could escort her and Mars to Egypt. Minerva had coin from her father to pay him after the journey, but she planned to give the Ferryman double that for tolerating her brother.

Mars spat over the edge a second time, this time making a loud hacking sound. Minerva spun her head back around in the direction of the dock. She knew this ignoring would only prompt her brother to try harder for her attention, but she did not care. Once they reached the dock it would all be over. She only hoped her brother would behave himself.

As the ferry drew nearer the dock, the figure of the man became clearer. He had both his arms extended up over his head, waving as if to beckon them in. He was a tall man with muscular arms dressed in a white tunic and sandals. Minerva squinted and placed her hand on her forehead to block out the sun from her eyes. This man had the head of a falcon. Its feathers were brown with specks of mottled gray. The beak was gray at its base but black at its curved tip. Both eyes were large, round, and completely black. There did not seem to be any white in them. It must be Horus, Minerva though.

Before leaving Greece, Minerva and Mars were briefed by their half-brother Hermes on the all the Egyptian deities. Minerva had known that many of them had the bodies of humans and the heads of animals, but seeing one nevertheless conjured up a sense of awe in her.

Minerva waved back at Horus in response. She turned and went to the stern of the ferry to meet her brother. He was tall and had a handsome face which, despite being the God of War, was without a scratch. He was dressed in his full Roman military splendor with a dark crimson tunic that ended above the knees. Over that he wore gold chest armor that covered his entire torso. His shoulder and arms were bare and muscular and had developed a deep tan during the voyage. He held his helmet in his left arm. Such a shame, Minerva though, to waste such a beautiful appearance on such a pitiful god.

"Horus awaits us, brother. You are to be on your best behavior and represent Rome and our father in the best light."

Mars looked at her in disgust. Minerva knew how much he hated taking direct orders from her, but their father had charged her with making sure he arrived in Egypt without fail. Had she not come, the Roman God of War would have been whoring in Athens or Rome by now. She was determined to not let her father down.

"Represent our father?" Mars began, "Represent the one who takes me, the handsomest God on Mount Olympus, and marries him off to one of those Egyptian abominations?" Minerva detected a slight slur in his speech. He must have gotten into the boat's wine supply again. "I should have been given Venus, not some half-monster whore. But no, our father gives Venus to that gimp of a brother of ours. And I'm to wed some freak. Tell me, sweet sister, what exactly is it that I owe our father. Or this bird-God?"

"He is not a bird-God. He is Jupiter in Egypt, and at least he is letting you choose a bride." _Which is more than what you _deserve, Minerva thought. She strained to not let her growing anger show in her voice.

"To fuck a woman with the head of a pig or to fuck a woman with the head of a mule. That's what the bird-God calls a choice." He spat over the side again.

Minerva turned around to make sure Horus on the dock was hidden from view behind the bulk of the ferry. She did not want the Egyptian King of the Gods to see this. She slapped her brother in the face, sending him on his back. She drew her sword out of its sheath by her side and pointed the tip at Mars's crotch.

"I do not care, dear brother, what you owe our father or Horus. But I am the one who is to ensure your arrival in Egypt and eventual marriage to one of the Egyptian goddesses. The rest of the Olympians will be here in a week for the wedding. And if you in any way ruin our father's chances at establishing an alliance with our southern neighbor," she lifted the red tunic with her sword and pressed the tips against Mars's leather undergarment, "you'll owe me your manhood. And you won't be able to fuck a pig or a mule, never mind a woman. Do you understand?"

Mars's eyes widened. He said nothing but nodded eagerly. Minerva knew that her brother knew that she was better with a sword than he. She put her sword back in its sheath and extended a hand to help her brother up. Mars at first waved off her offer with both his hands, but Minerva did not budge. Seeing that he had no choice, he grabbed his sister's hand and let her hoist him up.

Charon rowed the boat up to the shore. As Minerva stepped on to the dock, the man with the bird head wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace.

"Welcome to Egypt. I am Horus." Minerva's first guess was correct. She hoped she could remember what animal heads the other gods had when it came time to meet them. "You must be Athena, Goddess of War." He backed away and stared at her up and down. "They say your sister Aphrodite is the most beautiful of the Olympians. If a creature lovelier than you exists, I would have to see it with mine own eyes to believe."

Horus grabbed her hand. He bent down to kiss it. Minerva felt the sharp point of his beak, though she did not flinch. She normally scoffed at signs of affection from male gods, but she decided it was best to be polite in front of the Egyptian King of the Gods. In time, Horus and the others would know her as the independent symbol of feminine power that she was.

"Your Highness is too kind. Though now I am known as Minerva. All on Olympus have adopted our Roman names." She turned her head around and gestured to her brother. "And this is my brother and your soon-to-be son-in-law, Mars." Mars was still in the boat with his hands on his waist. His lips were in a neutral, straight line, neither a smile nor a frown, though the creases on his forehead betrayed his not wanting to be here. He did not appear to have any intention of stepping onto the dock.

"Ah yes!" Horus came to the edge of the dock and clapped his hands together. "The great Roman God of War. Our goddesses will be pleased to see such a handsome man as yourself. Please, let me help you." He extended a hand as if to help him off the boat. At first he did not take it. Minerva stared intently at him, eyes wide and intense. She slowly placed a hand on the handle of her sword hoping he would remember her promise. It seemed to work.

With a barely audible grunt, Mars picked up his helmet and took Horus's hand. He stepped onto the dock.

"You must forgive me my absent-mindedness," Horus said, "we in Egypt still know you by your Greek names. I hope you take no offense. I can assure you that the others will need reminders as well."

Minerva stood in disbelief as Horus's politeness and casualness. She was so used to her father's domineering demeanor and constant show of authority. She began to feel a sense of guilt at correcting him so callously.

"No need for apologies, Your Highness. Should you or any of the other gods call me Athena, or my brother Ares, we will of course know whom you are referring to. Either of our names will suit us." She looked at her brother and gave a slight nod that showed that he would accept either name as well.

"Oh nonsense," said Horus, "you are the Gods of Mount Olympus. You deserve to be called by your proper names." He looked at Mars. "Now that we are to be family soon, you may call me Horus. I take no joy in formalities." This was another gesture that shocked Minerva. Jupiter would have insisted to be called "Your Highness" and grown angry should a foreign God refer to him by name.

"I want to express my thanks to you for changing course and coming down all the way to Thebes," Horus continued, looking at Mars. "I wanted to stay away from Alexandria until the wedding. So much politics up there. Here, you can become better acquainted with whatever Egyptian Goddess you choose without any undue pressure." Mars's face did not change. "I," Horus paused, "hope the extended voyage did not inconvenience you too much."

When the two Roman Gods first received the letter from Triton, the son of Poseidon, midway through the Mediterranean, that Horus wanted to meet in Thebes instead of Alexandria, Mars had been insulted. He bellowed that such a magnificent God such as himself deserved to be welcomed in the capital of Egypt and no place less. Minerva, though not viewing it as a slight to her honor, was irritated at the thought of extending an already long voyage listening to her brother.

But looking around at the scenery from the dock where she stood, she could see why Horus would prefer this location. Sand stretched out as far as she could see like an ocean. Round, gentle hills rolled up and down like waves. Parts of it seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. She could only imagine the kinds of stress and pressure he must have felt in Alexandria. A place like this would have been a pleasant oasis where he could escape all that. She could not have hoped for a better place to get to know a future bride. She only hoped her brother felt the same way.

"It was no inconvenience at all Your High-, Horus," said Minerva. "This place is indeed beautiful. We are honored to be your welcomed guests anywhere in your Kingdom."

Horus continued to look at Mars like he expected the Roman to say something. When no response came, he looked at his sister. "Splendid," he said with a clap of his hands together. "Come. This way to the temple." He began walking up the dock to shore. Minerva dug her hand into her tunic and produced two gold coins. She tossed them to Charon, who gave her a look of surprise upon catching them. The agreement had only been for one. Minerva gestured with her head at her brother, who was still standing at the end of the dock, refusing to follow Horus. Charon gave a slight nod in both approval and thanks.

She looked at her brother and waited until Horus was beyond an ear shot. "Let us go," she said, "our host beckons."

Mars glared at her. "Tartarus can have our host," he said. "It can have all his Goddesses as well. I will not marry a woman who looks like that. The head of a beast? I am the God of War!" His face began to redden, the color almost approaching his crimson war tunic.

She grabbed the handle of her sword again to remind him of the debt he would owe her should he fail. "If your bride has the head of a one-eyed toad with a hundred boils on her face, you will marry her and say 'Thank you' to Horus. Our father demands it." She spoke in a hushed tone that begged her brother to do the same

"Then our father should have sent Apollo or Hermes in my stead. Or better yet, he should send Vulcan down here. He already looks like a toad, so he won't have to lower himself any." Minerva scowled. Mars's bitterness at Vulcan for being Venus's husband was no secret among the Olympians.

She felt the skin of her face flush with a dry hotness that emanated down her neck to her chest to her hands. Her focus narrowed on her brother. Her selfish, insolent brother who was on the verge of ruining her father's plan to unite the deities of Rome and Egypt. The Roman people had already conquered the country. A union between the Gods would quell any future rebellions.

Minerva began to withdraw the sword from its sheath and make good on her promise until she heard Horus yell from the shore. "Gods," he said, "is my pace too fast?" She closed her eyes tight and tried to push away the hot anger that was growing inside her. She relaxed the scowl and forced herself to breathe deeply. When she opened her eyes she noticed Charon had already sped ahead at least a hundred yards north. She had an idea. Mars was like a child God. Any reactions to his tantrums would only strengthen his resolve.

"I am going to the temple," she said as she began walking up the dock. She left her brother at the edge. He would eventually realize he had run out of options with no way of getting home and no other place to go.

"I will not follow him or stand for any more of his insults. Look. He hasn't even a chariot for us. He expects _me_ to walk."

"Then _walk._"

She hurried up to Horus, looking back only once to see if Mars would follow. He did with his head bent downward and his face in a tight grimace. As angry as she was at her brother, she could not help but agree that it was slightly discourteous to not have a more proper way of transportation for them.

The three Gods walked along the sand with Horus and Minerva in front and Mars always twenty feet behind. He still had not said anything to the Egyptian King of the Gods, which Minerva found both rude and fortunate. The path Horus led them on was all sand once they left the dock. There was no road or pathway to speak of. They went up and down several small hills. Horus spoke with a joyful tone in his speech.

"I hope you do not mind us walking to the temple. You must be accustomed to horses or chariots. But I had hoped the extra time would allow us all to talk. Tell me, dear Minerva," he began, his voice lowered, "I mean no offense, nor even judge of character, but your brother seems to be awfully quiet. I would expect more vigor from a God of War." He gave Minerva a concerned look. "Please be truthful. Is he unhappy?"

Minerva's eyes widened as she sucked in her breath. She had not expected such a direct question. Now was not the time for lies. "I will be truthful. In Rome, our Goddesses are humanoid throughout their entire shape, both body and head. He wants a beautif…" Minerva stopped herself when she met Horus's stare. "I…I'm sorry Your Highness. It is not that we on Olympus do not find you or your other Gods beautiful, it's just that-"

"It's that your brother wants a wife that can rival the most beautiful of Rome," Horus finished her sentence. "There is no shame in that. He is handsome. And he _should_ expect a bride of equal splendor. While many of our Goddesses do have animals heads, he will find that we have many that are thoroughly human. In fact, he will meet some once we arrive at the temple, which should be coming up here shortly."

Minerva allowed herself a long exhale. If there truly were beautiful Goddesses with the heads of humans here in Egypt, she knew her brother would be more than willing to go along with the marriage. She would have done her job, and Jupiter would be proud.

When they reached the temple, Minerva had to admit to herself that she was disappointed by the sight of it. She could only imagine what this would do to her brother's already bothered temper. Why had Horus asked them to forego Alexandria for this? It was made of large blocks of stone placed haphazardly upon one another. They were of the same color as the sand. It could have blended in with the surroundings. She had heard that the Egyptians were fond of intense shades of red, blue, white, and green. But there was none of that here. Only the dull beige of the stone. It was short and flat on its top with no towers, columns, or even a stairway. It was wide, but the walls were completely bare. There was not even a statue of Horus or any of the others Gods adorning the exterior. It was simply a large, bland block. Minerva desperately searched for a logical justification for Horus bringing them here. If he had wanted to find a place where Mars would have private moments getting acquainted with his future wife, he had certainly accomplished it with this temple.

They entered through a wooden door, Minerva refusing to look back at her brother. She did not want to see the anger form on his face. She removed her helmet once inside. It was much more colorful and decorated than the exterior. The door led into a narrow hallway with paintings of people gathered by a river. It was done in the typical Egyptian style. They were flat caricatures of people painted from a sideways view. She assumed this was a painting of native Egyptians gathering at the Nile. In the center of the ceiling was a bright, gold circle with fierce, red stripes radiating out of it. In the circle was the head of a black falcon. That must have been Horus. He was also the Sun God here.

The hallways led into a large courtyard with a square pool in the middle lined by marble. Tall palms trees and shorter peach trees sprinkled the ground outside the pool. Black reeds stood out from it. Minerva immediately felt ashamed of her feeling slighted only moments ago by her host. This scene was absolutely beautiful. Such tranquility that this courtyard offered could not have possibly been provided by Rome, and probably not by Alexandria either. While she soaked up the sight of the pool and vegetation, she knew her brother's focus would be elsewhere.

Wading in the water and by the pool's edge were at least ten Egyptian Goddesses. Only two had the heads of animals, a panther and a lioness. The others were human. Not only human, but very beautiful women. They all had copper skin, almond eyes, and straight, black hair that shone in the sunlight. Two were naked in the water. When they stood up upon seeing the two Greek Gods enter, Minerva knew her brother would not complain about their bodies. Their breasts had the perfect amount of body to them, neither so large they would sag or so small their presence would be disguised by a tunic. They were slim in the shoulders and waist. Their hips and buttocks had womanly curves and gave way to two long, smooth legs that came together at the waist with just a speckle of pubic hair.

"Goddesses!" Horus exclaimed with his arms outward. "It is my honor to bring you the God who will one day make one of you his bride. The Roman God of War, Mars." Minerva would have been able to hear him introduce her as Mars's sister had it not been for Mars brushing her in the back of the shoulder as he briskly walked past her and head straight for the pool, never looking at her. She stumbled forward. The God of War turned around at Horus.

"Stories of Egyptian beauty could never do justice to your Goddess, Your Highness." His smile beamed. Minerva let out a sigh. Instead of anger at her brother's lie, which would have been her normal reaction, she felt only relief. At least he was no longer her responsibility.

Mars stood there besides the pool with his helmet in his hand and chest up high and proud. The Goddesses, even the two with animal heads, swarmed him. Minerva did not blame them. He was handsome, and they had no way of knowing how adamantly he refused to marry one of them a while ago.

"Well, my dear Minerva," Horus said to her, "it looks like your brother is satisfied with his choices. Come. There is a room where the servants have set up food and drink. You must be famished after such a long journey."

"That would be lovely, Horus." Minerva realized how hungry she was.

Horus led her to another hallway, but stopped before entering. "If it pleases you, dear Goddess, this room I am about to take you is for eating and resting, would you be so kind to leave your sword out here? I can imagine how important it must be to the Goddess of War, but it will be safe out here. These are my people." He smiled.

Minerva froze upon hearing the request. Parting with her sword was the same as parting with clothes for her. She would be naked and exposed. Vulnerable. No longer the strong virgin that was the symbol of feminine power.

"Your High…Horus. I would much prefer to take it with me. I have not been without it since I was a babe. It is not that I do not wish to follow your house rules, or that I do not trust it with your Goddesses. It is that my sword is as much a part of me as my arm."

Horus stood there and gave her a quizzical look. She could not tell if he was offended that someone would defy his house rules, or simply shocked that she would have such a strong connection to her sword. She figured it was probably both.

"Well," he said. "I can understand your position. A Goddess of War needs to become one with her weapon. I even admire your devotion to it. But this is one house rule I simply cannot be lenient with. See, no weapon has ever been brought into this part of the temple. Should I permit you to do so, it would..."

"Undermine your authority," she finished his sentence. That was something she could respect. A sigh escaped her. She reminded herself that she was still a guest. While it would pain her, she knew she could part with her sword for a few moments. She undid her belt and set it on the ground by the wall. She did the same to her helmet.

"Excellent. Come."

Minerva followed him into the hallways. It was actually easier to be without her sword than she had feared. She laughed at herself for being so silly. She was among a friend now, and they would soon be family.

This hall did not have any paintings on its walls or ceiling, but had a distinct shine as if it had just been cleaned. Soon, it grew dark. Horus made a right turn down another corridor that was lighted by several candles on the wall at his shoulder level.

"My dear Minerva, it is said that you are still unmarried. And we are not short of Gods here in Egypt. Perhaps you may want to find yourself a husband while you are down here. In fact, there are two Gods in the room where I am taking you that I am sure would be honored to have your hand in marriage." He smiled at her.

"I must refuse, Horus," she stopped. "Please do not mistake my answer as a lack of flattery, but I am unmarried because I have chosen a life of maidenhood, of independence from men. Mortal women, especially maidens, hold me as a symbol of feminine power and look to me for their strength."

"Ah yes, the _Athena Parthenos_, the Virgin Athena, as the Greeks called you. Very well. Rest assured your maidenhood shall be honored in my kingdom."

"Thank you, Horus."

"But tell me one thing. You have been so truthful with me, I beg you to continue. Why of all the Gods of Mount Olympus did Jupiter send Mars? He is indeed striking, and my Goddesses will be pleased at that. But I have heard his title of 'God of War' can almost be called a false one. It is said he is incompetent in battle. Is he not?"

That was true. Not only did Mars leave much to be desired when it came to combat, he was also a coward and a whiner. During the Trojan War, he fought alongside Hector against the Greek Diomedes, who was supported by Minerva. She redirected the spear of the Greek soldier in mid-flight, and it landed in Mars's thigh. The anguished scream he let out shook both sides of the war.

In another instance, Mount Olympus was attacked by two giant twins, the Aloadae, named Otus and Ephialtes. Their goal was to win Diane and Juno for their wives. Mars, eager to show the other Gods his worth in battle, rushed down the side of the mountain with sword in hand to meet the twins head on. Before he could strike a blow, Otus grabbed his arm and twisted so hard the sword feel out. Ephialtes knocked him in the side of the head, rendering him unconscious. The two carried the defeated God of War off and imprisoned him inside a bronze jar, in which he remained for thirteen months before his half-brother, Hermes, released him. So pathetic was this loss that Jupiter had wanted to leave him in the jar so that the world would eventually forget about him. Had it not been for the pleas of Mars's mother Juno, he would have been erased from Olympus's memory.

"He is, Your High…Horus."

"And what of his qualities as a potential husband? Hasn't he been caught several times in an adulterous affair with Venus, who is the wife of his own brother?"

That was true as well. Minerva said as much. She began to feel an ache of embarrassment form in her chest like a heavy lead weight. She knew the main reason why Jupiter decided to send Mars to Egypt, instead of his more honorable brothers. She did not want to tell him.

"Then that brings us back to my question," he looked at Minerva, all signs of friendship no longer there. "Why did your father send _him_? Is it because he could no longer stand his own son's presence on Olympus?"

The lead in Minerva's chest exploded into a splash of hot knives that landed on her neck, chest, and stomach. Sweat formed on her skin. Horus had proved himself to be a wise, observant king, figuring out the real reason himself. Her mind raced, trying to concoct another reason that would be more pleasing to his ears, knowing a lie would only insult him.

"It is true that he is one of the less popular Gods among us on Olympus. But Jupiter knows the Egyptian people have armies of fierce, brave warrior. And now that your country is part of the Roman Empire, he felt it best to send the one God who inspires the most courage and spirit among men at war. While Mars may be a poor fighter himself, Roman soldiers, and Greek soldiers before them, have held him as their patron God for centuries. Before battle, men sing prayers to him, and he knows how to stir the fire in their bellies. There is much he could offer your Egyptian soldiers." That was the best reason she could come up with. Most of it was true. For reasons unknown to her or any other God, mortal men who fought in battle had always revered him. There mere presence of his statues filled them with the will to conquer. In a way, he was responsible for the expansion of the empire. She hoped it was a good enough reason for Horus.

"Yes," he said and looked away. "The Roman Empire. I suppose Egypt is a part of it now." He continued down the hall. Minerva stood still for a second in confusion, then followed. "My kingdom, like so many others, has been swallowed up by the great beast whose appetite can only be satiated by feeding on the lesser countries around the Mediterranean. Does your father believe that sending me his least favorite child would dissuade me from inspiring my people to revolt? Is that what he is thinking?"

Minerva moved her mouth silently for a moment. Words would not come out. Horus's sudden change of tone robbed her momentarily of her senses. The two came up to a large, black wooden door. It creaked eerily as Horus opened it.

"Your Highness," the King of the Egyptian God's sudden solemnity caused her to abandon the casualness. "Many of the provinces have enjoyed years of prosperity under Roman rule, as I am certain Egypt will as well. Jupiter, and the Roman people, does not necessarily look at the annexation of your kingdom as a military conquest. It is more like a political alliance."

"A political alliance? Over ten thousand Egyptian women and children were taken by your soldiers as slaves. Is that what a political ally is north of the sea?"

"Spoils are always taken by the victor in war," her words quickened. "Your people have conquered before and done the same. It is not…" she stopped herself. Why did she feel the need to defend herself to him?

She went through the door into a dark, hot room with a bare table in the middle and a trapdoor on the floor near the back wall. Inside stood two Gods. One was a tall, muscular, olive-skinned man with numerous scars laid across his body. He had the head of a jackal with red eyes that almost shone in the room's darkness. This must have been Anubis, the God of Mummification. He stood with his arms crossed, glaring down at Minerva as she entered. Minerva shivered despite the heat.

The other God, she at least presumed it was a God based on what Horus had told her in the hallway, was giant, black snake coiled on the ground. Its yellow eyes seemed to have dark, sinister shadows moving inside them. It looked at Minerva and flicked a blue, forked tongue at her. She saw the corners of its mouth curl up in a devilish grin.

Minerva felt both unease and anger at the sight of the two deities. Even if they had been the handsomest Gods Egypt had to offer, she would have refused any attempts by them to win her hand in marriage. She had turned men away before, even her own brother, Vulcan.

But she was a proud Goddess, and the fact that Horus thought that these two hideous abominations of nature, a jackal-headed man and a giant serpent, were worthy husbands for her sent pangs of anger through her. She felt her face flush red with heat, but she forced herself to keep a calm, neutral face, refusing to show emotion.

"Horus," she said in the boldest voice she could find, "what I meant was..."

"I am not Horus," the man with the falcon head said. He walked around the table. She was speechless. "I am Ra. Horus may have the head of a falcon like me, but he should have the head of a dog. A dog with your father's leash around his neck to be paraded around like the Gods of all the other provinces your people have swallowed up."

His eyebrows deepened into a scowl. His black eyes had a shine in them she had never seen before. It was like fury. Instinctively, Athena reached her hand to her hip, but grabbed nothing. She had left her sword out in the courtyard. She cursed herself under her breath for being such a naïve fool. Here, in this room with three Gods she did not know and without her sword, Minerva had never before felt more naked. Any anger she may have felt was quickly erased by fear.

She wanted to turn and run out the door as quickly as she could. It was not cowardly to flee a battle which one could not win. Before she could move the giant snake wrapped its body around her legs and clenched them together. Anubis put one hand on her shoulder and the other on the back of her neck. The two forced her forward near the table. The jackal pushed her down to the table with a violent _Whomp!_ The left side of the her face stung from the impact. She tried to push herself up, but he was too strong. He grabbed her hair and lifted her head up so she could see Ra in front of her.

The snake reared its head up to her face and gave her cheek a long, slow lick with its rough, calloused tongue. The stench of its breath made Minerva gag.

"Let me swallow the Roman virgin whole, Ra," the snake said. The voice was like a thousand eagle talons scraping against a rock. "I haven't had maiden in so long." She heard Anubis giggle.

"Patience, Apep," said Ra. Apep. She had heard that name before. She had also heard several other names he was known by: the Serpent of the Nile, the World Encircler, and, the name that came immediately to Minerva's mind, the Evil Lizard. He was the Egyptian God of Evil. The one who fought against Ra thousands of years before. He had tried to hypnotize Ra and devour him whole, but failed. In turn, Ra imprisoned him in the underworld, and his roar was believed to cause the earth to rumble. But now he was here in this room. And to Minerva, he seemed to be a new ally of Ra.

"My dear Minerva," said Ra. "There is someone I want you to meet."

He opened the trap door and went down a set of stairs. When he returned moments later, he was ascending the stairs backwards, moving slowly. In his left hand he held a bowl with the handle of a knife sticking out of its rim. He was bending down at the waist and seemed to be carrying something heavy with his right hand. He whispered words of gentle encouragement.

As he backed out onto the floor, Minerva could see he was helping a woman crawl up the stairs with her hands. She moved clumsily, leaning on Horus's arm for assistance. She made it out of the stairway, and the reason for her awkwardness was clear. Instead of legs, her torso rested on the body of a great snake. Ra helped her turn to face Minerva.

It was a most gruesome sight. The woman's skin was dark green and wrinkled as if she had been lying in a tomb for a hundred years. Her breasts were shriveled up into her chest like crumpled sheets of papyrus. Her head was attached to her shoulders by a band of hemp that weaved in and out of her flesh at the neck as if it had been severed. Her lips were pale, cracked, and tainted with dried blood. The eyes were a putrid yellow, but when she looked at Minerva, they contained a sort of yearning, like a child who had just been scorned by her parents and was begging them for a word of encouragement. On top of her head were at least twenty small, black snakes that lay lifeless besides her face. Minerva knew exactly who this woman was. If any in the room had been mortal, they would have instantly turned to stone.

"Minerva," said Ra, "you remember Medusa, yes?"

She did. Medusa had once been a beautiful women and a priestess of Minerva. Her beauty had drove the Sea God Poseidon mad with lust. He chased her. She fled into one of Minerva's temples and begged the Goddess for help. But Poseidon was Minerva's uncle and was too powerful to be stopped. He stormed into the temple and raped the priestess. Such a desecration in one of her temples was blasphemy, and Minerva could not stand for it. She turned Medusa into the hideous monster that now stood before her, condemning her to a lifetime of isolation. Any mortal who looked upon her would become a statue. The only men who sought her out willfully were heroes looking to chop off her head to use as a weapon of war, as was done by Perseus.

"You must forgive her," continued Ra. "She cannot speak. One of your heroes took care of that." He pointed to the hemp. "Tell me, dear Goddess. Did it give you pleasure to turn a mortal woman who had just been taken by your uncle into a monster?"

"She enticed my uncle and brought rape into my temple. My temples are places of purity. I could not stand for such a sacrilege. She had to be punished."

"No. She was fleeing your uncle and went to you for sanctuary. And you did nothing. That makes you guilty of rape as well."

"There are laws. We in Rome do not stand for such audacity by mortals. I had to ensure she would never seduce another man or God."

Ra gave her a look of disgust. He gave the bowl with the knife in it to Medusa who held it with both hands. He walked around the table out of Minerva's sight. Behind her, she heard a tunic being pulled off a body and dropped on the floor. A hand slid underneath her robe and lifted the cloth up onto her back, leaving her rear exposed.

"You must forgive me, Minerva," said Ra. "When I told you your maidenhood would be honored, that was a lie."

For the first time ever, Minerva felt a stiff elongation of flesh slide inside her. She screamed. She tried with all her strength to free herself from the Gods' grasp, but it was no use. Anubis's strength was amazing, as was Apep's. In an instant all was silent. The awareness that she was being raped came over her mind like a storm cloud. She became motionless, her body paralyzed with helplessness. Any attempts to break loose were futile, she knew. Her eyes traveled upwards into the top of her head. Then all was black.

When she came to, she was still pinned to the table by Anubis and Apep. She saw Ra in his tunic standing cross-armed next to Medusa, a smug grin on his face. Sobs came up uncontrollably from within her. Ra had taken from her all that made her who she was. She would never again be the pure Virgin Goddess who gave strength to mortal women all throughout the empire. Her cries became more violent until her whole body shook.

Ra looked at Medusa. "Do you feel you have been given justice?" Medusa nodded. He looked at Minerva. "You are very lucky, Goddess. Were I the judge, I would have let Anubis and Apep have a turn." The two Gods roared with laughter.

Through her tears she managed a single word. "Why?"

"Why?" said Ra. He pulled the knife out of the bowl. It dripped with a thick, black liquid she had never seen before. "Why have I just raped you? Or why is Medusa with a band of Egyptian Gods?" He pressed the tip of the knife against Minerva's neck. The liquid was painfully cold against her flesh. "Pray your brother lives long enough to know the answers to those questions. You, however, will not."

He thrust the knife into her neck and twisted. She let out a wail. She knew she was immortal. The wound would only serve to cause her pain, much like what Prometheus felt chained to the side of the mountain whenever the eagle came to tear his insides out. She had been cut before only to heal completely. But this time was different. She felt blood continue to ooze out. The cold liquid on the knife seeped into the wound, down her throat, and into her belly. It gave her a feeling of nausea. She tried to scream again, but this time managed only miserable gurgles. She grew dizzy. The cold realization that she was dying brought her focus back, but only for a second or two. Everything in her vision started turning white. The last thing she heard was the laughter from the three Gods. The last thing she saw was a smile creep across Medusa's lips.

_**Juno**_

Juno sat in her marble chair as Mercury flew up the stairs and onto the Temple floor. She could see that the Messenger of the Gods was breathing heavily with beads of sweat rolling off his chin. She made herself sit up straight and gripped the armrests, bracing herself for the worst. Mercury only moved with such haste when the message was bad.

The Temple of the Gods sat at the very top of Mount Olympus. It was never shaken by wind, wet by rain, or even touched by snow. Instead, the air around it was forever cloudless. Less than a mile down the mountain below the Temple, there hovered a vast, white cloud that stretched all the way down to the base, making it nearly impossible to climb by mortals.

The Temple itself was of a splendor that could only be enjoyed by an Immortal. Marble stairs leading up to the base numbered in the thousands. They led up to a smooth floor shaped in a perfect circle that served as the Temple's base. At the edge of the floor were a dozen columns of the Corinthian order. At the top of each column was an elaborate, four-sided capital, each side containing a sculpture of the face of one of the Gods. There was no roof over the Temple, as there was never any need. Only the rays of the Sun God Helios ever touched the floor.

At the bottom of each column was a marble chair carved out like a throne. Jupiter's was the tallest, with Juno's being only a few inches shorter. The other ten were all of the same height. In the center of the floor was a fireplace, where Vesta, Goddess of the Hearth, nursed a never ending flame. Before, she had once sat on a chair next to her column. But she insisted her place was at the hearth, and so she stayed there. Her throne had been given to Bacchus, the youngest of the Gods. Vulcan had chiseled out a new capital containing his face for the top of the column.

Mercury ran up to Jupiter and kneeled.

"Your Highness," he said catching his breath. "I bring you a message of the utmost urgency. It is from Egypt."

"Stand child," said Jupiter. Juno grimaced at hearing the title "child," as she always did when her husband bestowed it upon any of his children, except Mars and Vulcan, who were hers.

Mercury stood up and handed the scroll to his father. The King of the Gods unrolled it and read it silently. He let out a loud sigh, dropped his hands into his lap, and allowed himself to sink back into his chair. He brought his left hand up to his forehead and rubbed as if nursing a headache.

"That damned Mars," he bellowed, redness forming in his cheeks.

Juno continued to sit up straight and hold a calm face. She did not want the others to see the anger she felt at hearing her husband speak her son like this.

"What is it, Your Highness," she said. The other Gods leaned forward in their chairs.

"This is a message from Alexandria. Horus writes to say Mars has not yet arrived. The wedding is in four days." His voice grew louder. "He should have been there three days ago."

"Something must have happened," said Juno, her voice calm and confident. "Perhaps Charon is lost. He has never ferried his boat in the sea. Or maybe he has been detained by some rogue Gods. There are still deities in Egypt who are not fond of the Roman conquest."

Jupiter turned to her with a fury in his eyes. "Something happened, you say? Whoring and drinking wine somewhere in the Empire. That is what happened."

_Like father like son_, Juno thought.

"Father," Apollo called out. That word caused Juno to clench her teeth. "Remember you sent Minerva down with him to ensure his arrival. She would never allow him to escape his duty. I must agree with our Queen. Egypt is still a dangerous place. They were most likely captured."

"Captured," yelled out Ceres with disbelief. "Were he by himself, then that would be the likely reason for his delay. We all know he would be unable to fend off a captor by himself. We've seen it before. But Minerva would not. She's just as skilled with a sword as any God. She would never let herself or that lack-wit be captured."

Juno shot her sister a cold look, but Demeter did not see it. "Minerva may not have let herself be taken by _one_ captor," she said. "But she and Mars could not have held off multiple assailants. These rogues work in groups, not by themselves."

"Yes," said Bacchus. "They could have been overtaken by a team of rebel Gods. But reports from Roman soldiers have assured us that these renegades have fled to the south of Egypt. Mars and Minerva had only to go to Alexandria. Should a team of insurgents have even tried to reach the Mediterranean, they would have been spotted by Horus and his cohorts and been crushed. If we believe they were captured by these Gods, we would have to assume they were complete fools. A tempting though, but unlikely."

"Aye," said Neptune, banging the foot of his Trident on the floor. "My son Triton patrols the sea. Should he see just one of these maverick Gods, he would have sent word. I would have conjured up a storm and thrown them back into the Nile."

"Let us remember," said Diana, "that watching over Mars is a duty so taxing, it can strain even the most determined God. Most likely Minerva had shut her eyes for sleep, giving Mars a moment of unguarded freedom. Knowing this, he most likely jumped the boat and headed for a place where he knows the whores would flow as freely as the wine."

"Aye," said Jupiter, his voicing lower and gaining a sense of calm. "Minerva, bless her heart. For all her strength and will, it appears I may have put an impossible task to her. No one, mortal or God, could tame Mar's temper by oneself. Diana, my ever so wise daughter, is right. Most likely Minerva lost him and was too proud to send word to us of her failure." He sighed loudly. "She is probably going from city to city now in search of him."

All the other Olympians, except Juno, nodded in agreement.

"Father," said Mercury, still standing in front of Jupiter's throne. He took off his winged helmet. His dark brown curls bounced as he lifted it off. They fell besides a chubby, boyish face with large, pale blue eyes and red cheeks. He was pretty, not handsome like his half-brother Mars. "The day of the wedding draws near. Send me to Alexandria in his stead. I will take a wife and serve as diplomat in Egypt."

Jupiter looked down on the Messenger of the Gods. "No, my son. I have need of you here. No God can traverse the Empire with as much speed as you can. And you know as well as I do that I cannot send the Egyptians a messenger in place of the God of War." Mercury eyes widened. He leaned back a bit as if he was about to suffer a tirade from his father. "Oh stop that look, Mercury. It was not a slight. You'd be ten times the husband and diplomat as that idiot brother of yours, as any God here would." He sighed loudly and gazed upwards. He looked like he was lost in thought. "If only the Egyptians knew that."

Mercury bowed and left to take his seat. Jupiter brought his hand up again and started rubbing his forehead. Diplomacy was dependent upon titles, he had always said. Foreign deities would be more inclined to open their arms to an alliance if they received the "God of War" over the "Messenger of the Gods" as a husband for one of their Goddesses.

Jupiter stood up from his seat and walked towards the hearth. His white tunic was fastened over his right shoulder with a golden broach shaped like a thunderbolt. Thick, gold bracelets covered both wrists at the ends of huge, well-muscled arms. His hair and beard were silver and flowed like water from a river. Whenever he stood up to walk in the Temple, all the other Gods fell silent and awaited his words. Despite the attention he commanded, he walked with a hunch in his shoulders. He looked down at the floor as he walked. Juno knew her husband was not a man made for handling politics. He could drink wine, father children with both Goddesses and mortal women alike, and lead others into battle better than any God in existence. But thinking of ways to welcome foreign Gods into his empire tired and bored him.

He looked up. "If the Egyptian Gods discover that the God I sent them has been lost and is patronizing the wench houses of the empire, they will question the meaning of my gift. And that is a conversation with Horus I do not wish to have." He paused as if he was expecting, more likely hoping, that someone else would come up with an idea to fix the current predicament.

"Minerva," he continued, "will find him. All we can do now is wait. The brat will soon either tire of his gallivanting, or stumble out of an inn in such a drunken stupor his wailings will be heard from leagues around. Either way, Minerva will reach him. Mercury, you will rush to Alexandria and tell Horus that Mars was wounded in battle and has fallen victim to infection. Tell him we must nurse him here and only send him when he is at his full strength."

Mercury stood up, bowed, and once again took flight down the stairway of the Temple. Juno continued to hold a calm, neutral face. But inside she was turning with anger at her husband's hypocrisy. Mercury wanted to be the one sent to Alexandria. While Jupiter talked of the embarrassment the Olympians would feel should the Egyptians discover that Mars was lost, Juno though of the insult they would have felt if they were sent a Roman errand boy in place of the God of War. If one of her sons had suggested such an idiotic thing, Jupiter would have chastised them to no end. He never showed either Mars or Vulcan a shred of the gentleness he reserved for his other children.

She looked over at her son, Vulcan. He sat with his chin resting on his hands, staring at the floor. Quiet. He did not look like he had heard any of the discussion. He was broad of shoulder and neck, with arms as muscular as his father. His face was dark with a thick, mangled black beard that looked like it had not been combed in months. His eyes were mismatched, one dark green and the other pale blue. Juno looked at his legs. She felt a tightness in her throat as pity for her son swelled.

As strong as his arms were, his legs were weak and puny. Each one was twisted and mangled at the knee and ankle. When he was a lad, Juno and her husband had gotten into a quarrel, and Vulcan had seen it. She did not want him to get involved, but he was too young to know his father's wrath. He intervened, taking his mother's side. Furious, Jupiter picked him up by the leg and hurled him into the sky. He sailed for a full day before landing on the island of Lemnos. He survived. But from that day on he would never walk the same again. He had two walking stilts he had fashioned out of pure gold. When he returned to Mount Olympus, the other Gods laughed as they watched him limp forward with the help of his supports. Seeing him now brought those memories back like a river whose dam had just been destroyed. The thought of others laughing at her child caused her blood to roil.

"Your Highness," she called out, trying to keep a calm in her voice. "You say we must wait for both Mars and Minerva to return. That may be a sound plan for now. But I think it will be prudent to make a plan should they _not_ return." She could feel the eyes of the others fall immediately on her. Jupiter turn around to face her as well. He looked like he wished she had never brought up that possibility. He clearly wanted to put a rest to the matter for now.

"If your son," the words sounded like bile he had just spat them out, "does not come back, I will send out a search party." He paused. "Now that that is settled, I call this meeting adjourned. We will meet again same time on the morrow. I have other business to attend to." He started walking towards the stairs. _You have the taverns and whorehouses below to attend to_, Juno thought.

The other Gods began to get up from their seats. "Your Highness," Juno said, causing them to freeze once again. "And what God will you send to Egypt?"

"There will be many to choose from," Jupiter said impatiently. "I will decide when the time comes."

"And what of our perceived weakness?"

"Dammit, woman," he sounded impatient. "What are you driving at?"

"I am driving, Your Highness, at the very obvious fact that we may be wrong in the assumption that Mars and his sister are simply avoiding his duty temporarily and will come back whenever he is through. If we wait for some magical re-appearance, it may be too late for either of them to ever re-appear. I am trying to explain to you that their capture is a very real possibility."

She waited for a response from her husband. He did not give one. "I am saying we should send out a search party now. If you are right, and Minerva is truly on the hunt for her lost brother, she would welcome the assistance."

"My Queen," said Bacchus. Jupiter looked relieved by another God offering a response to his wife. "Minerva is a very proud Goddess. Surely we all know that. She will take any help we offer as an insult. She is very capable of tracking her half-brother down. A search party would only slow her down and get in the way. I say we allow her to do what she must. Do that, and surely Mars will show up."

"And if he does not," Juno asked, refusing to let the point drop.

"Then I will send a search party," boomed Jupiter. He was growing more and more irritated by his wife. "The matter is settled. Mercury will soothe the Egyptians' anxiety. We will do nothing for now and let Mars sow whatever wild oats he needs before marriage. That is all anyone will say about it today. The meeting is adjourned."

The other Gods stood up and headed out of the Temple. Jupiter was the last to leave. Juno hurried up from behind him and grabbed his shoulder. She waited until the others were gone before she said anything.

"Jupiter," she said. "My son and your daughter are missing. How could you speak of the matter so coolly?"

"My sweet wife," his voice was exhausted with no more room for frustration. "Mars has done this before, and I am sure he will do it again. Only then, thank goodness, it will be Horus's head that aches. I believe he is doing this both for attention and out of defiance. You remember how unhappy he was when I selected him to go down there. Can't say I blame him. But if I send out a party in haste it will only encourage him."

"A small price to pay for ensuring his safety. Do you not agree?"

"Juno," he said, the anger creeping back. "If his absence troubles you so, you may send out a search yourself. But I will not have any part of it. I have played his childish games far too long." With that, he turned and walked down the stairs into the surrounding cloud. She did not know what he was going to do today. But she did know what she must do.

On the shores of Lake Avernus is a grotto that marks the beginning of a long tunnel into the earth. Its descent is steep, and it opens up into a vast emptiness beneath the living world above. Should one be brave enough to walk the entire length of the tunnel, one would end up on the shores of the River Styx. The air down here is cool and always has a thick, gray mist bleak enough to destroy all hope of ever returning to the surface. Since the beginning of time, no sunlight has ever graced the floor of this place. The only source of light comes from the many torches that help mark the path the souls of dead men must take to reach their final destination.

While the Underworld is gloomy, it is also filled with riches that could make the wealthiest of mortals churn with envy. All around, from the earthen floor to the rock walls to the stony ceiling way up above, are embedded the rarest of gems. When the light from a torch hits a surface a certain way, one may be blinded by the shine of red, violet, green, and thousands of other colors the jewels possess. All this rock is of no use to the living, as nobody dares make the descent. And even if a mortal were to be so foolish, no living man is given liberty to cross the River Styx.

It was one the shore of Styx where Juno awaited the Ferryman, Charon, with a gold coin in her hand. To her right and left were torches alight with fire on the ends of thin rods of wood stuck into the earth. There was one at every ten feet, and they seemed to go on forever. The water was black and still. Reflections of the torches lay motionless upon its surface. The only movement was the series of ripples left behind the boat, as a hunched figure dressed in a black hooded robe rowed it up to the bank through the mist.

He held out his hand made entirely of bone without a shred of skin or flesh. Juno placed the coin in it. As Queen of the Gods, she felt that she should be exempt from such payment. But she saw no point in raising the issue. A safe passage was all she needed and would be well worth the coin.

The Ferryman curled his fingers around and withdrew his hand into his robe. He rowed the boat across the river. Styx was not wide nor very deep, but it was believed that if a soul were to dive in hoping to swim across, it would drown and be lost to existence for all eternity. That was why even the poorest mortals found a way to obtain a gold coin when one of their kin died.

They reached the other side of the water. Juno stepped off onto the earthen floor, which felt several degrees warmer than the opposite bank. Before her rose the great Wall of Erobus. It stood over a hundred feet tall and was made of a black rock harder than anything found above. And it was so thick that a dozen chariot horses could ride abreast on its top. The Wall stretched beyond Juno's sight. The only way to get to the other side was through a small opening that led into a dark tunnel. Way up on the top above the passageway stood three women with the bodies of dogs and the wings of a bat peering over the ledge. These were the Furies, the punishers of those who have ever sworn a false oath. Whenever they caught the scent of one, their faces would disappear behind the top of the wall as they scurried back, giggling to each other in a high crackling sound as they thought of the ways they would torture the sinner once the Judges sent him to Tartarus.

Juno walked through the pitch black tunnel. When she came to the other side, she saw the great three-headed wolf, Cerberus. It was a giant beast, so big that a man would fit inside one of its jaws. It growled and sniffed as all its heads whirled around in search of any soul that came too close to the Wall. It took no heed of the Queen of the Gods as she passed by. The monster did not concern itself with whoever came into the Underworld. Its duty was to snatch those who tried to escape.

Past Cerberus, Juno walked upon a pathway to a temple. It was a simple, marble building with a flat, square roof held up by several columns. Inside were the chairs of the three Judges of the Dead: Minos in the center, Rhadamanthus to his left, and Aecus to his right. She approached them.

"Juno," said Minos. He was tall and powerfully built with a gray beard. Juno thought he may have been handsome in life. But now all the judges had skin that was a pale gray and empty blackness in their eye sockets. "You have fallen far from Olympus. What business have you here?"

"I am 'Your Highness,' to you, Minos. Even down here I am still Queen of the Gods. You would be wise to remember that, lest you would rather spend your existence cleaning the gallows of Tartarus. My business is with my brother and him alone. I only need one of you to show me to him."

"I take orders from Hades, not from you or any other Olympian. The Lord of the Underworld is not accustomed to unexpected visitors. I will go to him myself and see if he desires to meet with you. You will wait here."

Juno did not have time for this. "I have already told you. You will show me to my brother at once."

Minos stood up from his chair and went to her, putting forth his eyeless face. Such a sight would have frightened a mortal, Juno was sure. But she was not scared. He opened his mouth to say something when another Judge spoke.

"Your Highness," said Rhadamanthus, a short, stout man with a smooth, jowly face. "Our Minos simply meant that he wishes for Hades to be fully prepared for your visit. But given that you are his sister, I am sure he will make time for you. Come. I will be the one to take you to him."

Minos shot the other Judge a look. It was clear to Juno he did not like his authority being undermined. Juno walked around him, not caring for his wounded pride.

Juno and the Judge continued down the path until it split into three separate trails. One led to the left, to the prison Tartarus. The one straight ahead went to Asphodel Meadows, where a soul went if the mortal was neither evil nor virtuous. The right path led to the Elysian Fields, where the heroes and those who were good in life could enjoy a never ending paradise. They continued on to the middle path, where the Palace of Hades stood.

The Palace was as dark and grim as the Temple on Mount Olympus was bright and jovial. It had a pyramid shape with three square levels, each one smaller than the one below. At the corners of each level was a gold statue of Cerberus, with the three heads splayed out. The eyes were bright, red rubies that glowed with a fierce luminescence. A great yellow flame sprayed forth from each head. The entrance to the temple had a solid gold frame around it and was guarded by two giant statues of gargoyles. Their heads were angled inwards as if the eyes were watching all who came and went.

Rhadamanthus rushed ahead of Juno. "I will go first to announce your arrival, Your Highness. You may keep walking."

"There is no need to rush. I shall wait here." He had been courteous to her, unlike Minos. She felt he deserved the same. He looked back and smiled before disappearing into the doorway.

He came out moments later and said that Hades was ready to see her. She thanked him.

She went through the doorway and came into a large room with gray walls lined with sculptures of the six original Olympians. In the center roared a great fire in large, round, open hearth, much like the one in the Olympian Temple. Behind it Hades sat on a throne made of iron whose armrests were shaped in the heads of wolves. To his right was a similar, yet smaller throne. It was empty. It was Summer now, and his wife Persephone was in the world of the living with her mother, Ceres.

The Lord of the Underworld sat straight up in the throne with his hands in a tight grip on the armrests and his jaw clenched. His lips were straight, neither a smile nor a frown. He watched Juno approach with pale grey, emotionless eyes. His beard was silver, like Jupiter's, yet cropped close to his skin. The top of his head was completely bald. He was shorter than both his brothers, but broader of shoulder. And despite being only a year older than Neptune and two years older than Jupiter, his character was worlds apart from theirs. Where Neptune was restless and spend his days traversing the seas, Hades was grounded in his place as Lord of the Underworld. Where Jupiter enjoyed vices such as wine and women, Hades was stern, unforgiving, and unwavering in his sense of duty. He was the only God who had refused to adopt his Roman name.

"Brother," Juno began. "I have come here to ask for assistance. My son Mars set out several days ago for Alexandria to take an Egyptian Goddess as his wife. We have just received word he has not reached there yet. There has been no message from him or his sister Minerva. I fear something grave has happened to him."

Hades looked at his sister without a gesture of expression. His face remained stoic. No raising of the eyebrow, curving of the lips, or twitching of the finger. Of all the Gods, he was the hardest to read. "My sweet sister," he said in an eerily low voice, "Mercury sent word of your son's absence yesterday while escorting a new horde of souls to Styx. You have not come all the way down here to tell me news I already know. Tell me, how does this matter concern me?"

"I wanted to ask you for help tracking him down."

"And what help do you feel I could give? The boy takes after his father. He is most likely enjoying the earthly pleasures of the mortal world. I advise that you check in every whorehouse. You will eventually come upon him. That job belongs to you, or his father. Not me."

"I ask you to do nothing, dear brother. I only need you to grant leave to one of the guards in Tartarus. One of the Cyclopes. Or the Hecatonchires."

"You want a prison guard to go on some wild goose chase? Do you know what the mortals would do should they see a beast with one eye enter into their taverns? Or a monster with a fifty human heads and a hundred human arms? They would be stricken with fear. As I said, leave the whorehouse search to your husband."

"He is NOT in a whorehouse," Juno yelled. She had heard enough of the Gods make accusation of her son. She inhaled and composed herself, remembering she was a guest down here. "I beg your pardon. But I feel, no, I _know_ my son has been detained and is being held against his will. I need someone to go and rescue him."

"And how do you know such a thing?"

Juno felt words catch in her throat. How to explain such a mother's premonition to a man? "Hades," she said, "he is my son. I know what has happened to him the same way I know how he was brought into the world."

"You have a _feeling_, then?" Juno nodded. "You ask me to release one of my guards on a feeling? Tartarus is now full to the brim with the souls of sinners. I scarcely have room for the Titans my brothers and I cast down." He narrowed his eyes at his sister. "I would not expect one of you to know that. It has been ages since any of you have been down here."

Juno knew he was referring to the Gods who lived on Mount Olympus. It was true. After the three sons of Cronus overthrew their father along with the rest of the Titans, they drew lots for realms. Jupiter received the sky, Neptune the sea, and Hades the Underworld. None of the siblings knew if he was satisfied or unhappy with his drawing. He simply nodded in acknowledgement and went to his new domain to rule. There he stayed, rarely going to Mount Olympus. In turn, very few of the Olympians ever came to visit him.

Juno knew the one thing that had a chance of changing his mind. "Dear brother, your duty as Lord of the Underworld is a lonely one." She nodded towards the empty throne besides his. "I will not pretend to know what you must feel when you must give her up for half the year. But do not think that I do not know what loneliness is." Hades raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "The thrones on Olympus belong to my husband's children who are not my own, and being with the reminders of my husband's infidelity is worse than being alone. I have only two sons, and one has gone missing." She let her words hang in the air.

Hades's face softened as he looked at the empty throne. For a moment, Juno felt pity for her brother. Persephone, daughter of Ceres, had not been a willing bride, being abducted by her husband while gathering flowers in a field. But he had always been kind to her, bestowing on her all the jewels his realm had to offer. Ceres refused to allow any crops to grow on earth while her daughter was away, forcing Jupiter to press his brother to release Persephone to her mother. Before he did, she ate four seeds of a pomegranate her husband had offered her, which by Law of the Fates gave Hades the right to keep her with him as long as he desired. Anybody, mortal or God, who ate the fruit of the Underworld was sentenced to spend an eternity there. And for years he did just that, believing in the absolute power of the Law of the Fates. But when Ceres came and pleaded with him to release her, he conceded. Hades knew what happiness her mother brought his wife. For the first time in his life, he let his compassion come before his duty.

Standing before the Lord of the Underworld, Juno felt jealousy for Persephone. As grim and unloving as he appeared, and as dark and gloomy as this place was compared to Olympus, she knew her brother would never have any wife other than his queen. He stood up. "Come," he said, "I will take you to Tartarus."

The two Gods came to a black stone bridge traversing over Phlegethon, the river of fire. Below, Juno could see a thick yellow and orange flowing liquid with bursts of flame shooting up from its surface and down again like leaping fish. On the other side stood a huge, flat wall of rock with round openings. Inside these windows Juno made out black figures holding spears.

"Souls of sinners," Hades said. "Those who have committed less grim sins in life I have employed as guards." Juno knew the meaning of what he said. With the ever expanding size of the prison, he now needed to use mortals as watchmen. She hoped they could be trusted.

They came to a large opening guarded by the monster Hydra. It had the body of a dragon with gray-green scales and fifty serpent heads. The heads all turned in unison towards the pair of Gods. The mouths opened as if to let out a shriek when Hades put a hand up. It crawled over to the side of the opening to allow them entrance. As they went in Juno could feel the gaze of all fifty snake heads as they followed her. She knew she was a Goddess the monster had never seen before.

They walked under two more stone walls, each one smaller than the one before, until they came to a vast, round, dark pit. The sloping walls leading to the bottom held what Juno guessed to be millions of small cells with iron bars. Inside the souls of sinner banged and hammered on them protesting the injustice they were receiving. In the middle a black castle with one tall, pointy turret was suspended by fiver broad, stone bridges connecting it to the edge of the pit. On top of the turret stood Tisiphone, one of the Furies, holding a long, black bullwhip. She gazed downwards searching for those who may be trying to escape.

They walked on one of the bridges to the castle. Below, Juno could see nothing but an empty blackness. Wails and cries of sinners echoed up, causing Juno to shiver. She knew that at the very bottom of this dungeon were the Titans who were overthrown by her brothers. She did not want to think of the tortures that were happening down below.

The portcullis was raised before they reached the castle wall. Inside was a large hall whose walls were lined with statues of the Cyclops, the Hecatonchires with their fifty heads and hundred arms, the Hydra, the dragon Campe, and the Furies. All were guards of Tartarus. In the middle was a round table with six wooden chairs. The chairs were empty now except for one with Brontes, the Cyclops. He had several parchments in front him. He seemed to be studying them furiously with his head resting on a hand in frustration. He did not notice Hades and Juno enter until the came to the table. He lifted his head and stood up immediately. He was taller than Hades by a good three heads and muscled like a bull. His face was long and covered by a thick, curly red beard. He wore an iron chest plate over a red tunic. In the middle of his forehead was a bright blue eye under a protruding brow.

"My Lord," he said. He looked at Juno. His brow rose in surprise. "My Queen. The Underworld is honored by your presence." He bowed. It had been ages since Juno had seen any of her uncles, both the Cyclops and the Hecatonchires. But she knew they held a debt of gratitude to all the Olympians. After they were born from Gaia's womb, their father, Uranus, was so disgusted by their appearance that he cast them down into the pit of Tartarus, becoming its first prisoners. Gaia helped another son of hers, Saturn, overthrow Uranus, under the promise that he would release his brothers after victory. But he lied, and after he won he kept them imprisoned. When Saturn's son Jupiter had grown into a man, he freed them and asked for their help in overthrowing the Titans. They did, the Cyclops fashioning thunderbolts for Jupiter and the Hecatonchires throwing rocks big as mountains a hundred at a time at the Titans. After a ten year war, Jupiter proved victorious. He cast the Titans down into Tartarus and employed his uncles as guards. They never forgot whom they owed their freedom to.

He looked at Hades again. "I was about to come see you. I need to discuss something with you in private."

"I will hear you, Brontes. But first, the Queen of the Gods begs an audience."

The Cyclops had a look on his face that said he would listen to whatever Juno had to say but would appreciate brevity. She briefed him on the disappearance of Mars and Minerva. "And why do you seek our help, My Queen? I and the rest of our brothers are mere prison guards, not trackers."

It was a question which Juno had not thought much about. Even on her way down to the Underworld, she just had a feeling the Cyclops would be the best fit for the job, even though she could not verbalize her reasons. "Dear Uncle, it is not your expertise as a tracker that has brought me to you. It is your unquestioned loyalty to the Olympians. Everywhere I turn up there, I am met with skepticism of the thought that my son is being held captive. I can think of no one, neither mortal or God, more determined or resourceful as you and your brothers. You are my last hope."

Brontes sighed deeply. "I would be most honored to help you, My Queen. But," he picked up one of the parchments, "we simply cannot lose any guards here. Our cells are overwrought with prisoners as it is. Should one escape, we," he stopped suddenly and looked at Hades. Juno felt a painful lump form in her throat as she thought about what fate lay ahead for her son.

"I thank you anyway," she said as she turned to leave, not knowing what she would do next.

"Wait," said Hades. "Arges is the fittest man for this task. After the Titans were smashed, he was able to track down the ones who fled. It was said he had the power to see far off lands. I never believed it myself. But regardless, he would be the most useful as a tracker. Brontes, show her to Arges's quarters."

"But My Lord," Brontes begged.

"Show her to his quarters and let her speak to him. Come back here immediately and we will discuss whatever issue you're having." Hades spoke with an air of authority that quelled any arguments. Brontes bowed in agreement and led Juno up a flight of stairs at the back end of the hall.

The stairs led to a narrow hallway with cold, gray walls. They passed several wooden doors with small, barred openings. These were the quarters of the guards. Both the Cyclops and the Hecatonchires lived here. She began to feel embarrassed by the fact that those who did such a difficult and thankless job were forced to live in such shabby conditions while those on Olympus enjoyed a life of luxury. Each guard had to work a rotating shift schedule that led very little time for sleep. All the rooms were empty except the one at the very end of the hallway. Brontes knocked, peered inside, and slowly opened the door.

"Arges," he said, gently nudging his sleeping brother. Arges was snoring like a sick cow. "Arges, wake up."

Arges turned slowly in his cot to face his brother. "Piss off," he said. "My shift does not start for another hour. What makes you trouble the little sleep I can afford?"

"The Queen of the Gods begs your ear," this time he was loud. Arges's one eye opened wide and he sat up in his cot.

"My Queen," he said. "This is most unexpected. To what do we owe the _honor_." He said the word with obvious sarcasm. He stood up slowly. He was completely naked but did not seem to care what Juno would think of it. He was taller and more slender than Brontes, but still well-muscled. He had red hair on his head like his brother, but his face was clean shaven. His lone eye was a dark crimson. Running diagonally across his face was a thick, white line of scar tissue that past just below it. If whatever gave him that scar been just a hair higher, he would be blind now.

"No need for apologies, Uncle," Juno said, then realized he had offered none. "I have come here begging a favor." She thanked Brontes for bringing her here. He nodded and quickly hurried back down the hallway. She once again explained the predicament of her missing son. "They say that during the Titanomachy, you could see lands miles away with your eye."

"Ah yes," he replied. "That is true. We were on top of Mount Othrys after the final battle. I saw that bastard Saturn running through the forests down below. You know he almost almost made it to the sea? He would have boarded a ship for Egypt had I not spotted him." He sat back down on his cot and laughed. "I hope the Furies are shoving a hot poker up his rump right now." He laughed more loudly. Juno had not been expecting such talk, especially after all the formalities she had been given so far. "But as far as being able to see off in the distance, this _remote vision_, I have not used that power since the end of the war. I'm not even sure I know how to do it."

"Please, uncle," Juno pleaded. "I must have my son back." Tears began to pool in her lower eyelids. "I cannot even imagine how miserable my life will be should I lose him."

"Miserable?" Arges said with a sneer. He stood up, towering over her and glaring down with that red eye of his. Juno could not look away from his scar. "What do you know of miserable, _Juno_?" He said her name with poison. "You sit high up on your throne on Mount Olympus with your meat and your wine under a blue sky. None of you ever dare come down here unless it's to beg a favor from one of us lowly guards. Look around you. Of all the realms your husband and his brothers drew lots for, this was the one nobody wanted. Hades drew it, and he never once complained. You're all lucky for that." He spat. "You ask me to go find your son out of some loyalty you think I owe you. Well I think he's out whoring just like his father. So piss on your loyalty and piss on your son. I ought to make you promise me that if I find him, you'll make a new post for me, somewhere high on Mount Olympus, so I'll never have to come back here again."

Juno swallowed back her tears. "You shall have it, Arges. I sit beside the King of the Gods. He will listen. You will have a chamber the size of ten of these rooms you have now. Wine, gold, women. Everything you desire you shall have. Just please, _please_, say you'll find my…" Arges raised a hand.

"I said I _ought_ to." He spat again. "Ought to, but won't. My place is here with my brothers. But as you said, you do sit beside the King." He placed his hands on Juno's shoulder. His grip was firm, but he did not hurt her. "Tell him what you have seen here. Tell him that Tartarus is overrun. The prisoners outnumber us one thousand to one. If we do not get relief, rebellion is imminent. There are Gods whose roles on Olympus are minor. Send them here. We could use all the aid we can get." He looked around the room. "My brothers and the Hecatonchires work long hours and must retire to this cramped, decrepit castle. Have your other son, Vulcan, build a new one. It is the least my brothers deserve." He took his hands away from her. "If I help you, promise me you will tell your husband that we need help."

"I promise," she said. And she meant it.

_**Taranis**_

Taranis crouched down by the fire with his hands above the flames. It was cold up here in the North, and his thick sheepskins did little to keep the warmth in. It had been years since he was given refuge here by Odin, but his body was still not used to the frost that seemed to creep on to his skin every night. His brothers, Esus and Toutatis, sat on the other side of the fire. Esus was attacking a leg of roasted venison, trying to tear the meat away with his teeth. Toutatis held a gold chalice of dark beer. They sat near the mouth of the cave which housed the Norse Gods. The mortals up here did not build temples or any other places of worship like they did in the South.

As Taranis gazed into the flames, he allowed his mind to wonder. The fire burning the logs taken from the evergreen trees outside the cave was not the only thing he saw. Instead, he saw over a hundred huts scattered along the green hills of his country, each one set ablaze by armored soldiers riding on horseback carrying torches. He saw his people, tall men and women with pale skin and red hair, fleeing their homes and being chased down by these mounted bringers of death. Taranis felt the heat rise from his boiling blood as he thought of the men and Gods who had stolen his home.

The riders in the image suddenly stopped pursuing the fleeing Gauls and retreated to the center of the village. Their horses spun around and screamed in panic. Looks of fear painted the men's faces. From the top of his vision and from below, there was something crawling into view, like the sap running down the trunk of a pine tree. A slight smile crept across Taranis's lips. It was coming for the riders. The one from the top was pure white, like an avalanche of snow. The one from the bottom was black as night. The soldiers huddled closer and closer together. The ones on the outside of the group rode out to attack the white and black presences. They disappeared with painful screams. There was another presence in the image. In the middle of the frightened riders, a dark crimson pool began to take shape. It started as small puddle, but expanded rapidly. Each horse it touched sank as if it were a deep lake of blood. The men tried desperately to leap off their drowning horses, but the weight of the animals took them all down under.

A log snapped in half with a loud POP! Taranis fell backwards on is rear catching his breath. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. It was not the first time he had seen such an image in the fire. He looked ahead and saw both his brothers looking at him with blank expressions. He pushed himself up and resumed his crouching position. He was a big man, both tall and broad, with a fiery red beard that went down to his chest. His blue eyes sparkled in the glow from the fire.

"It's cold," he said to his brothers.

"Ah," said Esus, "the Gallic God of Thunder proves once again to be a weather expert. Well done, brother."

"Taranis," said Toutanis, "you've been seeing things again, haven't you."

Esus dropped his meat and sighed loudly. Taranis knew they had heard him talk of the image over a hundred times already and did not want to hear it again. But this was different.

"This was not the same. The soldiers rode their horses in a frenzy. Something was coming for them."

"Yes," said Esus. "A white blob came down from the North and devoured all the evil Roman soldiers that were terrorizing the innocent Gauls. And now you think that because you've had a day dream we are destined to call on the mortals of Scatinavia to take up arms and free their northern brethren from Roman tyranny." He rolled his eyes and continued eating his meat.

"We have heard this before, Taranis. And it is getting to be quite old." Said Toutanis

"There was not only the whiteness coming from the top. There was also a black presence, like bog water, creeping up from the bottom, and a thick, red liquid, like blood, expanding from the middle" he paused, searching for his next words. "I…I need to think of what it can mean?"

Esus put down his meat and stood up. He was taller and wider than Taranis. His eyes were of the same intense blue, but his beard was more orange than red. "Dear brother, don't you see what this means?" He gazed up at the roof of the cave. "It means," he paused, "that you have just had your first blood! It turns out you are the _Goddess_ of Thunder." He flopped back down on the ground with uncontrolled laugher.

Taranis leapt over the fire and came crashing down with both fists onto Esus's chest. The Gallic God of the Harvest spit out a mouthful of venison. Taranis reached for his face trying to tear the beard off his brother. Esus tried his best to keep Taranis off of him with his arms fully extended, but the smaller God was driven by fury at his mockery. Esus had always ridiculed his brother for believing in the power of his visions. Taranis had had his fill of it.

Taranis punched Esus's right in the elbow, causing the larger God's arm to buckle. He had a clean shot at his face. He drew his fist back and was ready to unleash all the anger his brother had stirred in him, when a pair of large hands yanked him off by his sheepskins. Toutanis lifted him in the air and turned as if he were holding a bundle of hay. He was taller and stronger than the other two. He also had the fierce, blue eyes, but his beard was as yellow as the Sun. Esus pushed himself off the ground in a hurried rage. He bolted towards Taranis with murder in his eyes when Toutanis slammed a hand on his chest. He stood in between his two brothers, each arm extended to keep one away from the other.

The show went on for several moments, Esus and Taranis exchanging curses, before Toutanis clenched his fingers around each of their sheepskins and yelled "Enough!" He threw Esus down on his back where he originally was and carried the smaller Taranis back to the opposite side of the fire.

Taranis shrugged off Toutanis's hand from his chest and sat down. Although furious, he was grateful for the Gallic Protector God intervening. Without him, he would have been smashed by the stronger Esus.

"Taranis," he said towering over his smaller brother, "what have we said about this before? Do you know what our host would do if he knew you were even thinking of another rebellion?"

"I was not _thinking_ of it. It _came_ into my thoughts, Toutanis."

The Protector sighed. "Call it what you will. It makes no difference. After your last rebellion failed, I had to send word out begging other Gods in far off places for refuge. Odin was the only one who agreed to take us in. We'd be wandering around in some god-forsaken country right now if it weren't for him. He made me promise we would not use the North to launch an attack against the Romans. Every time you draw up these hair-brained images in your mind, you spit on his hospitality."

"And we spit on our homeland each day we stay up here and let the Romans rape our land and defile our women."

Toutanis put his gargantuan hands on his waists as he peered down on Taranis. "Brother, do you think I enjoy knowing that our home is under the rule of some foreign Deities?" He walked back to his place by the fire and sat. "I do not like the Roman Gods or their mortals any more than you. But what can we do? Even if I shared your thirst for retribution and agreed to join you in raising a rebellion, we could not gather up enough mortals to send the conquerors back to Rome. Odin would throw us out. And then what? Let us not forget what happened the last time you whispered words of courage to a mortal."

Toutanis was referring to the Gallic nobleman and freedom fighter Vercingetorix. With Taranis speaking to him in dreams, he was able to raise an army of the poor in his hometown of Gergovia. He made alliances with other tribes and was given control of their armies. While he was successful in a few minor engagements with some of the Roman forces in Gaul, his biggest battle came against troops led by Julius Caesar at Gergovia. Even though he was victorious, sending the Romans back to re-group, his army suffered terrible losses, and he decided to retreat to the fortification of Alesia. It was a doomed, foolish move, and Taranis tried desperately to make the rebel leader pursue the depleted Roman troops. It did not work, and Vercingetorix soon found himself trapped. Caesar built two giant walls around the fort, cutting the Gauls off from supplies and contact with the outside. Eventually Vercingetorix was forced to surrender, and Caesar paraded him around the streets of Rome as an example of what happened when natives decided to rebel against the Empire.

"It was a valiant effort," said Taranis. "We were outnumbered four-to-one."

"A stupid rebellion then," yelled Esus. He sat up and was brushing the snow off his sheepskins. Taranis stood up as if to charge once again. Toutanis shot him a look that told him to quell whatever thoughts he was having.

"Your brother is right," said Toutanis. "And if you were to try such a thing again, the odds would be worse."

"I defeated their God of War in a sword fight," said Taranis. As much as the memory of the failed revolt haunted his dreams to this very night, he took joy in remembering his battle with Mars. In the middle of the battlefield at Gergovia, with mortals fighting and dying all around, the Roman God came forth, challenging Taranis to a one-on-one confrontation. This was most unusual, as Gods were supposed to stay back and assist the mortals who were doing the fighting. Combat between two immortals would be redundant and serve no practical purpose.

Nevertheless, Taranis came forth. The fight did not last long. Mars came at him with several blows from his sword. Taranis met each of them with his shield. While the blows had a respectable force behind them, they all came from the same place, above the head. The Roman God of War apparently did not care for adding variety to his attacks to confuse his opponent. The predictability of his strikes gave Taranis ample time to detect his weaknesses. Mars would lower his shield every time the sword was above his head. This move certainly allowed an assailant to put more power behind his sword, but it was better suited for delivering a final blow to a fallen victim. Only minutes into the fight, Mars raised his sword and lowered his shield once again. Taranis thrust his sword straight into the neck of the Roman. He dropped his sword and let out a hideous gurgling sound like a man drowning. Taranis was sure the mortals would have heard thunder had his sword not been in Mars's throat. He yanked his weapon out, and blood poured onto his opponent's armor. The Roman God of War, with tears in his red, swollen eyes, turned and ran from the battlefield as fast as he could.

"Oh piss on your victory over Mars," spat Esus. "You knew back then he was no good at combat. If the Olympians thought your revolt was worth what a dog could shit, they would have sent Minerva to fight you."

Taranis shot his brother a look of the foulest contempt. His victory over Mars was the only good memory that came from the rebellion, and now he was trying to take it from him.

"What our brother means to say, Taranis," said Toutanis, "is that even though you beat the Roman God of War, all that you did was inflict pain upon an immortal. Your men who were doing the actual fighting did not benefit the slightest from it. I've no doubt you could best that coward a hundred times more should you ever face him. But the fate of our people would never change for it."

"I could show them my victory in their dreams," said Taranis with earnest. "Should one of them know that their God defeated the God of their conquerors, they would take up arms with the most intense zealousness the Romans would retreat back to Italy at the first sight of them. Just watch, the both of you. The Gauls still cry out for a hero, and…"

"They cry out for rain, crops, and healthy children," said Toutanis. "The Romans have completed their conquest of Gaul decades ago, and the country is pacified. The days of the wandering, freedom-loving nomads are gone. Now our people are farmers, blacksmiths, and merchants. The only Gallic soldiers now belong to the Roman Army and have been given title and rank by the Empire. Give it up, Taranis. Our Gaul is gone." He took a gulp of beer.

Taranis lowered his head and stared at the fire once again. The flames began to blur, not due to another image forming, but due to tears welling up in his eyes. A free Gaul and a free Gallic people, at least the thought of both, were what he existed for. He had felt that way ever since he had arrived in the North. But now his brothers, whom he had fought with when Julius Caesar had first invaded their home, were taking that away from him. The tears at first burned his eyes with anger. How could these Gods of Gaul so easily let their people, the mortals whom they owed their very being, fall into a state of submission to a foreign power?

When he shut his eyelids, the tears fell to the snow and froze. Fury at his brothers soon gave way to recognition that they might be right. The Gauls had been subdued and had pledged their fealty to the Empire. That was not news to Taranis. But denying such a truth was easier than accepting it. And coming to recognition meant death, at least the closest an immortal could come to death.

His brothers saw the tears fall. "Eh…" began Toutanis, "you are the God of Thunder still, brother. The people here would have much use for you."

Taranis did not shift his gaze from the flames. His brother's words made him feel colder.

"The Norsemen have a God of Thunder," he finally said.

"I'm sure Thor could use all the help he…" Toutanis stopped. Taranis felt the anger return at hearing his brother suggesting that he accept a role as some aide or assistant to the Norse God of Thunder. The anger gave him a strange comfort.

"You'd rather be servants to some giant, oaf-Gods than risk defeat bringing freedom to our people," he said.

"Oh don't play the freedom-loving rebel with us, brother," said Esus. "I don't doubt your love for Gaul, but I know you too well to believe that that is why you wish to take up arms against the Romans." Taranis looked up at his brother, as did Toutanis.

"Say more, dear brother," challenged Taranis.

Esus looked at him, tore some more meat of the bone, and chewed it slowly, never taking his eyes away from his brother. When he swallowed he said: "When you rushed into the middle of the battlefield during the rebellion to face Mars, did you believe it would do any good to the men around you? I think not. And neither did Mars, unless he's more stupid than the stories suggest he is. No. You knew the outcome would be fruitless, but you went ahead anyway." He bit off another piece of meat. Taranis waited, slowly losing patience for his brother to get to his point. "And you did it because you and Mars are the _same._"

Taranis clenched his fists and thought about leaping over the fire once again to assault his brother, not caring at all for what Toutanis would do. Esus did not stir from where he was sitting. He only put a hand up.

"No need to feel slighted, brother. I was not talking about your skills as a fighter. Every God and mortal on Earth knows you could defeat that brute with a wooden sword." Taranis unclenched his hands. "I am talking about your thirst for blood. You are the God of Thunder, but you should be the God of War. Any reason to go to war would be good enough for you, as long as there is war. The only difference between you and Mars is that while he does not hide his love for war regardless of the cause, you shroud your taste for battle in the blanket of championing the oppressed people of the Roman Empire to freedom." He yanked the last piece of venison off the bone and wiped the grease off his chin. "And worse, you'd be willing to march the Gauls, your _people_, to a certain death against a greater army to satisfy whatever blood lust you have."

Taranis opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth. Esus was hitting a nerve inside him.

"If you ask me," Esus continued, "what you're seeking is a battle with another God. Fighting Mars gave you a rush that aiding mortals in battle couldn't give you, huh? Well if that's what you want, I say you should march straight up to Mount Olympus and put a knife through Jupiter's heart. The wound would heal obviously. That is if you're _able_ to wound him. I assure you the King of the Gods would up a better fight than Mar. Regardless, you'd be captured. They'll most likely throw you into whatever that prison is where they hold the Titans, and nobody would ever see you again. But at least you'd get whatever thrill you're looking for, no mortal would die for it, and we would finally enjoy some peace and quiet without you droning on about our people's woes." He tore the last piece of meat from the bone and threw it aside.

Taranis tried to think of a convincing counter-argument for Esus's accusation, but when none presented itself, he decided to avoid the subject all together. "Well," he began, "it is good to know that I share company with two Gods of Gaul who are perfectly happy to let their country suffer under foreign rule."

Esus stared dully at his brother. Taranis expected him to say _You know I'm _right. He didn't, and Taranis was grateful for that. Esus simply stood up and brushed the snow off his skins. "Another night passes where you vent tirelessly and accomplish nothing." He turned and started walking into the mouth of the cave to where the Norse Gods would be.

Toutanis stood up. He walked over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. "Decades ago, I would have called Esus a coward and a dog," he said. "But he does see the truth, and is not afraid of it." He walked past the fire to join his brother. He had gone just a few steps when he stopped and turned. "There is something I've never told you, Taranis. My biggest regret in my existence is not being there during the rebellion. I would have loved to see you jam your sword into that swine's throat." With that, he disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

Taranis stood alone by the fire, a hundred thoughts whirling in his head. The one that gained most of his attention was Esus's challenge, though he was sure his brother said it in jest. To march up to Mount Olympus and face the Roman King of the Gods was a suicide mission. That much was obvious to him. He entertained no fantasies that it would accomplish anything, save for condemning him to spend an eternity in Tartarus. He could only imagine what the fabled prison would be like in reality. And like his brother said, even if he did get close enough to Jupiter to create a wound, it would heal just as it would on any other immortal, and Jupiter would continue ruling from high on Olympus. There would be no regime change and no freedom for Gaul. It was truly a stupid idea.

But even while the silliness was clear to him, Taranis could not push the thought from his mind. To come face to face with the Roman King of the Gods, the one responsible for sending him to this dismal, wintery land of the North, would be a thrill like nothing he had ever experienced before. He could already hear the songs the mortals would create about the Gallic God of Thunder, the only Deity brave enough face Jupiter alone. He felt a warmth rush over his skin from the top of his head to the bottom of his belly. Goosebumps sprinkled over him like a thousand rain droplets despite the heat. He wondered if such a feeling would give him comfort as he spent the rest of his days in Tartarus. He looked out from the mouth of the cave to the South, beyond the thick forest of evergreens. Mount Olympus was there. It was far, but Taranis knew he would reach it eventually if he set out and kept walking. It would not matter how long he took. The Olympians were not going anywhere. Esus may have been right about the Gallic people. There were too few of them to hope to amass a respectable army. But he was wrong about…

He was about to step outside the cave when the thought made him freeze. Was Esus actually right about him? If he had allowed himself such thoughts of assassinating an enemy God for no purpose other than the sheer excitement he would get and the legend it would create, then maybe he was no different than Mars after all. Perhaps he did not truly care about the plight of his people, the mortals who had worshipped him for centuries, only about his own self-interest. His shoulders slouched as shame flowed over him.

_No_, he made himself say. He was not Mars. His people's freedom was what mattered, what he had fought for during the Roman invasion and the rebellion. He had only agreed to fight the Roman God of War to drive him off the battlefield, where he would no longer be able to whisper battle strategies into the ears of his soldiers. _Yes_. That was it. The rebellion failed because his men were outnumbered. If the confrontation with Mars had happened during the first Roman invasion, when the numbers were more even, Gaul would still be free.

Taranis clung to that thought desperately the way a drowning man clings to a raft. He had to believe it. He thought of the vision he had seen in the flames, of the red and black presences that had never been there before. What could they mean?

Perhaps the red was the blood he would spill after he wounded Jupiter. It was not literal blood, as any wound a God suffered would clot quickly. But maybe the redness represented how word of his bravery would permeate to all corners of the Empire. Maybe the other Gods whose lands had been taken would tell their people to take up arms against their Roman conquerors. And after he was put into Tartarus, his brothers would decide they could not stand for foreign Deities imprisoning one of their own. They would ask Odin for help, and, fearing a possible northern expansion of the Roman Empire into their realm, the Norse Gods would lead their warriors down south like an avalanche. The Gods of Egypt would seek help from the African Deities. They would head north like a black swarm of lotuses ready to devour any Roman foolish enough to get in its path. Maybe even the young God the mortals in Judea worshipped would join the fight.

_Yes_, he repeated to himself. That must have been what the image was foretelling. Why else would it come to him tonight, just before Esus had suggested the idea to him?

He reached his hand under his skins and felt the dagger on his belt. He pulled it out slightly from its sheath and felt the edge of the blade with his fingers. It was sharp. It would cut the skin of an immortal. He turned and took one last look at the cave where he had sheltered for so many years. His brothers would wonder where he had gone. But they would find out soon enough.

He stepped outside the mouth of the cave and headed south. He had never before been surer of anything in his life.

_**Brontes**_

Brontes entered the iron shaft with Gyges, a Hekatonkheires who was known as the Big-Limbed. It was a large, cage-like structure made to fit all three Cyclops and all three Hekatonkheires at the same time, though the Fire Guards rarely needed to travel together. On its top was an iron chain that when extended reached all the way down to the floor of the Pit. He signaled his servant, a soul of a man who had failed to pay a gambling debt in life, to turn the large wheel that held the chain. It creaked at first, causing Brontes to cover his ears. But it turned with greater ease as the servant pushed the spokes to the ground with zeal. Slowly, the two Guards descended, each wearing gold chest armor over a red war tunic with a silver shied encasing an orange flame in its center. It was the symbol of the Fire Guards.

As the shaft lowered, Brontes felt a chill run over his skin as he thought about how his fate for the next few moments lay in the hands of one of Tartarus's inhabitants. The man's sins were insignificant, and many others like him served as stewards in the Black Castle, but the High Captain of the Fire Guards still did not like the idea. He looked over at Gyges, a broad man with fifty miniature heads, all bald and pale with gray eyes, and a hundred arms that despite being tiny were ripped with muscle. After the Titanomachy, the Hekatonkheires had shrunk themselves to the same size of the Cyclops, who were almost twice the size of a mortal man, so they could serve as warden of Tartarus. When they were born of Gaia's womb, the Hekatonkheires were enormous, bigger than the mountains they hurled at the Titans during the war. The faces of Gyges did not seem to share the same concern about the servant controlling their journey. The Cyclops found some reassurance in that.

"What do you think she'll tell me that she wouldn't tell you," Brontes asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Captain," replied Gyges, his voice an eerie ensemble of fifty low tones buzzing together in unison. "I would have beaten it out of her myself so as to save you a trip. But you know our good Lord Hades has forbidden any torture upon the monsters." Gyges was speaking of the Sphinx. She was one of the many offspring of Typhon and Echidna that resided in the Labyrinth beneath the floor of the Pit. "She told me nothing of what she saw. She kept saying she needed to talk to you, and only you." He let out a long sigh. "Thus far, Captain, she seems to be the only one that knows were Medusa could be. All the other monsters claim ignorance. Whether it is an act or the truth I have no idea."

"What of Campe? Nobody could have left the Labyrinth without her knowing."

"She says she neither saw nor smelled anything. And you know she never sleeps." Brontus knew that fact all too well. When he and his brothers were imprisoned in Tartarus by their father, Campe was in charge of guarding them.

As they continued downward, Brontes could see the thousands of cells lining the walls of the Pit. Up near the castle, closer to the surface, the souls were usually subdued and had resigned themselves to their fate. These were mortals who had committed minor sins, like liars, cheats, and petty thieves. The Fire Guards were able to cram as many as four sinners into a cell that was meant for one without the need to worry. With few exceptions, they coexisted with each other in peace. Many of them even welcomed the company of cellmates.

As the continued downward, the peaceful, controlled conversations of the minor sinners gave way to loud clanging on the iron bars of the cells and vehement protests against imprisonment. They passed the adulterers and those whose crimes were driven by an uncontrollable sense of lust. Straight ahead, Brontes could see the soul of Clytemnestra lying on the floor of her cell, weeping. She reached her arm out through the bars and pressed her hand against the wall. The cell beside hers held Aegisthus, the man with whom she cheated on her husband, Agamemnon. He was also lying on the floor of his cell reaching his hand out to hers. Their fingers were only inches apart from the other, but they cells were placed so they could never touch. The bars did not allow their heads to poke out, so the lovers could never see each other. The only signs they had of the other's presence were their cries, and the wailing served as painful reminders of the sins they committed during life.

Such a scene may have made a mortal fill with pity, but Brontes gave the two sinners no such emotion. He had grown used to sights such as this and knew the punishments he was responsible for doling out were just.

The cries, screams, and complaints grew louder as the two Fire Guards went lower. It had been years since Brontes had come this far down since his promotion to High Captain. His days now were spent in the Black Castle handling the incoming sinners sent to him by the three Judges and deciding what sentence their crimes warranted. The lower parts of the Pit had grown more crowded. Some cells housed up to six souls of violent sinners. Fights, curses, and rape seemed to permeate the very rock that formed the walls of the Pit. Here, Brontes could see just what a dire state Tartarus was in. Earlier, after showing Juno to Arges's room, he had the unpleasant task of explaining to Hades that a monster in the Labyrinth had escaped.

"You say nobody saw her leave," the Lord of the Underworld had asked him. "The Labyrinth lies below the Sand Dungeon. The only way out is up. How can a woman with a serpent body scale the walls of the Pit, climb over the ledge in full view of the Black Castle, and slither under three stones walls that have sentries standing watch?"

"My Lord," Brontes had replied, "the Fire Shields are six and only six. We are the same number as we have been since the Titanomachy."

"Yes. And there has never been an escape before."

"There has never been so many prisoners, My Lord. We have over a hundred monsters in the Labyrinthe, twelve Titans, and almost a million sinners to monitor. Many of the guards who stand on the three stone walls are sinners themselves."

"I am not interested in blame, only remedies."

"I do not know anything just yet. Gyges was the Guard who discovered Medusa's absence. And he says that o far the Sphinx is the only one claiming to know anything. But she refuses to talk to anyone save me. I will go down to the Labyrinth and hear what she says."

The two discussed the problem of the Fire Guards being overwhelmed by the number of prisoners. Hade promised his High Captain that he would speak to Juno on the matter before she left the Underworld. "Very well," the God said, "after you have spoken to the Sphinx, send the Guard who was on Labyrinth duty when Medusa escaped to me." With that, Juno came back from her talk with Arges, and Hades led her out of the Black Castle.

As he neared the bottom of the Pit, Brontes pondered the last words Hades had spoken. There was no trace of anger or vindictiveness in his voice. Of all the years Brontes had known the Lord of the Underworld, he had never seen him exhibit such traits. Even when Jupiter ordered him to castrate Saturn after the war, Hades carried out the act without a hint of vengeance, only an iron sense of justice.

Brontes stuck his neck out threw an opening in the bars of the shaft and looked down. They were only a few hundred feet away from the floor, where he would see the Furies unleash their torture upon the Titans. Here, the cells held some of the greatest sinners the mortal world had ever known: the betrayers. During the entire descent up to this point, the Pit had grown more and more narrow as if coming to a point. But here, hundreds of feet from the floor, the decline stopped. For four rows of cells, the walls went straight down. This part was the Neck for it looked like the neck of an hourglass.

Past the Neck, the walls angled outwards like a dome. The cells here did not have iron bars like the rest of the Pit. Instead, they had flat earthen floors that ended and gave way to a sudden drop to the floor. When a sinner dared peer over the edge of the floor, they could see the Titans suffering. If they took one wrong step, they would join the fallen giants, and the Furies were glad to welcome new arrivals. The Fire Guards had come to name this the Opening. When they were prisoners, they were kept in the Sand Dungeon below, and the domed walls that led to the Neck was the opening to the world above.

In one of these cells, Brontes could see Paris, the prince who stole the wife of his host and was responsible for sending thousands of Greeks and Trojans to their deaths. He was huddled up in a fetal position near the back of his cell, tears and mucus dripping off his chin. He held his hands over his ears and rocked back and forth rapidly in nervous fidgets. Brontes assumed he was trying to drone out the screams of the Titans.

At last their descent came to an end. The shaft hovered two feet above the bottom of the Pit, gently rocking back and forth. The chain had been made short enough to prevent whomever the shaft carried from crashing on the Floor. Gyges opened the door to let his Captain step out first.

The bottom of the Pit was the Sand Dungeon. Its floor was made of black sand that was so fine it would not stick to clothes nor skin. If one were to scoop up a handful, it would flow through the fingers as easily as water. Yet it was packed together so firmly the Cyclops and the Hekatonkheires walked over it with their heavy bulk with ease.

Down here, Brontes could see his harshest sentences being carried out. The Sand Dungeon was reserved for the Titans, whom Jupiter had decreed deserved the worst punishments. There were twelve of them in Tartarus: the original Twelve who had come forth from Gaia's womb by Uranus's seed save Rhea, Jupiter's mother, and Monoetius, the son of Crius and Iapetus. Monoetius had three brothers, Atlas, Prometheus, and Epimethius. During the Titanomachy, he had sided, along with Atlas, with the Titans, believing the odds of victory favored them. When the Olympians proved triumphant, Atlas was sentenced to forever carry the weight of the Heavens on his back, while Monoetius was thrown into Tartarus.

As the two Fire Guards made their way over to the Labyrinth, Brontes's ears were soon bombarded by screams of agony. The fallen Dieties made no pleas for forgiveness and freedom, like the condemned mortals did. Brontes could not say whether this was due to senseless pride, or due to the tortures being so intense, they did not have time or energy to notice anything else. To his right he saw the Titan Hyperion standing with arms and legs stretched to the point where he looked like he may be torn apart. His wrists and ankles were tied by rope to a square, wooden structure that encased him. A Fury doused him with oils until every inch of his body glistened. When he was covered, she put a torch to his left foot. He let out a high-pitched wail as the flames raced up his body to the top of his head. Soon he became a writhing, screaming ember in human form. Every Titan was given a punishment to match his or her role before the war. Hyperion was the Lord of Light and father to Helios, the Sun-God. He had used the Sun as his chariot as he rode across the sky throwing arrows of flame upon the Olympians. Now his weapon served as his penance. Brontes knew that when the flame died, his flesh would heal, ready for the torture to commence all over again.

The two pressed further on, coming up on the Titan Oceanus. He was called "the Watcher" by the Olympians, the Cyclops, and Hekatonkheires. It was not a term of endearment, as when the war broke out, Oceanus refused to side with either the Titans or the Olympians, but instead watched from afar as the battle raged on. Jupiter believed this non-involvement earned him a place with his defeated siblings. His arms and legs were bound to a wooden chair. Behind the chair the sand sloped downwards into a well filled with black water that reeked of excrement. A Fury grabbed the Titans by the hair and threw him backwards. The chair crashed on to the sloping sand, and Oceanus's head, neck, and upper chest was submerged beneath the water. He was a Sea God, but his underwater breathing ability was stripped by Brontes before being thrown into the Pit. Now, water could drown him as it could any mortal. His whole body shook as he struggled to break free of his constraints. His last breath left him in the form of bubbles up to the water's surface. After several minutes, the Fury grabbed the chair and swung the Titans up gasping for air.

The Titans here were brothers and sisters to Brontes and Gyges, but neither man had any sympathy for their suffering. They would never forgot the day when Saturn and the rest of the Twelve had come down to the Sand Dungeon while the Cyclops and Hekatonkheires were prisoners.

_NO!_ Brontes thought. _That day is no longer a part of me_. Saturn, who was now a eunuch, had a place in the Sand Dungeon far away from the rest of his siblings, beyond the Labyrinth. He was put there because Brontes feared that if the rest of the Titans saw his punishment, they would find their own more tolerable by comparison. The Cyclops was glad he did not have to see him again, lest the memory of that awful day come flooding back into his mind.

They came up to the door of the Labyrinth, a barred gate made of iron embedded into the sand that blocked entrance into an underground tunnel. It was guarded by the dragon Campe. Seeing his former warden brought a grimace to Brontes's face, though he could not remember her ever being particularly cruel or sadistic to him or his brothers.

"My High Captain," she said with gentility. She was a large, winged lizard with gray and black scales. Her eyes were a bright yellow with narrow, black slits running vertically. "It has been many years since I have laid eyes upon the mighty Brontes, the Lord of Thunder. Your presence honors me. I presume you are here to see the Sphynx. Thank Jupiter for that. She will not stop wailing on how urgent she needs to see you. As Warden of the Labyrinth, I am no stranger to such whining. Normally I would give her a good clout with my tail and shut her up. But I am as anxious as you to find out what happened to Medusa and did not wish to risk her unwillingness to talk to you in spite of me."

Her apparent courtesy caused Brontes to forget whatever grudge he held against her. After Jupiter had freed him and his brothers, Campe was given a pardon, for, the King of the Gods said, she had only performed what was asked for her and would do the same for the new order. So far, years after the war, Jupiter had been proven right.

"I am," he replied. "Gyges tells me you did not see her leave. At least not this way." He gestured towards the door.

"We have scoured her cell, Captain," Gyges said before Campe could speak. "There is not a trap door or accessory tunnel to speak of. Even if there were, she would have only burrowed herself deeper into the earth. It is known that the Sand Dungeon is the bottom of the world, and the Labyrinth lies beneath it. Medusa could not have hoped to reach the living world by such a way."

"Could she have left this way, then?" Brontes asked, again pointing to the door. "If I understand, Cottus was the Guard on duty, yes?" Cottus was another Hekatonkheires. Pyges and Campe nodded. "Let us say that he was down in the Labyrinth taking stock of the cells, making sure the monsters were in place. According to his duty log, all of them were, even Medusa. Most likely Medusa's cell was one of the first ones he checked off. While he was deeper into the Labyrinth, Medusa was able to sneak off. Campe, you may have turned your head or shut your eyes for a minute, which was all she needed to get past you with your notice." _And she had the keys to her cell, the keys to the door of the Labyrinth, was able to avoid Campe's omnipresent sense of smell, able to get past the Furies unnoticed, and climb up the walls of the Pit to freedom_. Brontes knew how stupid the idea must have sounded to them. Gyges and Campe gave him blank looks that told him as much. But in all truth that was, or should have been, the only way for a monster to escape.

"There are over a hundred monsters in the Labyrinthe," he continued. He looked at Campe. "Is it not possible you may have let one evade you."

"No, Captain," she said sternly. "I never sleep. And when one of these monsters moves, I smell, no," she flicked a black, forked tongue out, "I _taste_ the movement in the air. I even knew it when you entered into that iron shaft that brought you down here."

"And yet you noticed nothing when she left?"

"I tell you, Captain, it is as though she was able to transform herself into air and float away."

Brontes sighed. "Very well," Brontes said. "Let us hope the Sphynx can shed some light on the situation. This had better not just be a way for her to plead innocence to me."

"If the bitch is planning to fuck with you Captain," said Gyges, "then I'll show her what it is like to get fucked." He gestured towards his crotch and thrust his pelvis forward. "She'll think twice of doing it again once she learns her place."

"I always knew you were an ass," said Campe. Gyges grinned at her and winked.

"Let us in," said Brontes.

Campe raised her tail, revealing the tip that was shaped like an iron spike. She inserted it into the lock on the iron door. She twisted with a metallic clank and lifted it up. The two Guards nodded at her in thanks and descended the stairs into the Labyrinth, the deepest prison in the earth.

When King Minos's soul had arrived in the Underworld, Hades offered him a choice: build a Labyrinth underneath the Sand Dungeon like the one on his island kingdom of Crete and become a Judge of the Dead, or become another resident of Tartarus. He chose the former, and since then the Labyrinth housed the monsters the Greek and Roman heroes had defeated.

The stairs led down a tunnel that quickly split into three separate ones: one straight ahead, one to the left, and one to the right. Indeed, this was the most complex prison the world had ever known. The corridors twisted, turned, and split off into many more. It was designed in such a way that should a monster be able to break out of its cell, it would have no hope of finding the exit. The fugitive beast would wander the corridors becoming more and more lost. Campe, with her impeccable ability to sense one of her prisoners make even the slight movement, would have ample time to find the wandering monster and return it to its cell. The walls were hollowed out into chambers large enough to fit only one. And unlike those for mortal sinners, the Fire Guards respected the single occupancy of each cell. Hades made it clear the monsters were to be treated differently than men. While he disdained being accused of softness, he had always held a sense of respect for beasts. They were never tortured, and if one of the Fire Guards ever engaged in such an activity, they would be reprimanded. If a monster felt the need to walk, it was allowed as long as it was escorted by a Guard. The Lord of the Underworld believed their only crime was being born in such grotesque shapes that condemned them to a lifetime of being hated, scorned, and hunted by mortals. Such sins were not deserving of severe punishments. But even so, Hades and the Guards knew that an unruly monster would have the greatest chance of escape. Many of them had claws to climb the wall of the Pit or wings to fly. And some had strength to match the Cyclops and the Hekatonkheires. Hence, a prison of the Labyrinth's caliber was necessary.

"This way, Captain," said Gyges as he took the right tunnel. Brontes knew he had to follow him. Monsters were moved from one cell to another since the last time he had been down here. He wondered if he even remembered enough to be able to get out by himself.

Inside the tunnel was pitch black except for the mounted torches. Light from the flames danced along the walls as far as they could reach before disappearing into utter darkness. They passed the cells of Orthrus, the two-headed hound, the Nemean Lion, the gigantic feline with impenetrable skin, and Ladon, the dragon who had once been anointed by Juno as the Guardian of the Garden of the Hesperides. All three monsters were sent here courtesy of the hero Heracles. As Brontes pressed behind Gyges, he felt the eyes of each beast follow him. That awareness caused him to shiver, though he did not know why. Perhaps he felt guilty for being the one responsible for throwing them, who had committed no sins themselves, into this place. Perhaps it had been too long since he was so close to those who may be holding a hateful resentment towards their jailer. Whatever the reason, he dared not look at any of them.

After passing several more cells that held monster whose names Brontes did not know, they came to the one holding the Sphinx. She lay on her side sleeping, her body rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath. She had the body of a lioness, though her breasts were human, large and supple. From the shoulders of her forelegs sprouted eagle wings. Her tail was a serpent with a head at its end. It was lying on the ground sleeping with the rest of her. Her head was human and had the face of a very beautiful woman, with high, pale cheekbones and chestnut brown hair that went down to her shoulders. Her lips were soft, pink, and in a pout. If this head had possessed the body of a woman, mortal men would have sailed across seas and battled one another for her hand. Brontes sighed at that thought as he looked around the rest of her cell, sad that such a ravishing creature needed to be held captive here. The living world had no place for deformity such has her.

Gyges hammered one of his steel-gloved hand onto the iron bars. "Wake up, woman," he yelled, "the High Captain of the Fire Guards is here. He is the one you've been clamoring to talk to. He's come all the way down here from the Black Castle, so whatever you have to say better be worth his while."

The serpent shot straight up and looked at the two guards, its head unmoving once it locked its gaze on them. The rest of the body started to stir more slowly. The Sphinx's eyes opened only slightly as she rolled her head and licked her lips. She lifted hear head up off the floor of her cells, only to have to it fall back down as she resumed her sleep.

"That does it," said Gyges, all fifty voices growing impatient. He ripped the ring of keys off his belt and stuck the proper one in the lock. Brontes was impressed by how easily he could discern which key belonged to which cell as there were over a hundred of them. He swung the door open so violently it made a loud crashing noise as it hit the wall. "Get up, lion bitch," he yelled as he walked up to her. The Sphinx reared her head, this time her eyes open and alert. When her body did not stir, Gyges gave her body a series of kicks.

"The", _kick_.

"Captain," _kick_.

"Is," _kick_.

"Here," _Kick. Kick_. The Sphinx crawled clumsily to her feet while trying to shield herself from Gyges. The Hekatonkheires grabbed her by the hair and looked at Brontes. "I think she's something to say to you, Captain."

_Enough!_ Brontes wanted to yell. Gyges was never known for his patience, but Brontes was still stunned by his inexplicable fury. What was it about this creature that sent him into a wild rage, all due to sleeping through commands?

"Thank you, Gyges," Brontes said instead. He could not reprimand one of his Guards in front of a prisoner. "You may let her go. I feel she'd be more inclined to speak without someone pulling on her hair." The Hekatonkheires's shot him a look of contempt, like a child who had just been told by a prent to stop playing with a toy. Brontes felt he may have been enjoying the kicking a little too much. Gyges let go of her hair. The Sphinx went tumbling to the ground before she found her footing. She looked at Brontes and gave a sly grin.

"Brontes," she said with seduction in her voice, "so kind of you to leave your castle to join your working grunts."

"You will address him as 'Captain' or 'Sir,' woman," said Gyges. He started to reach for her hair again. Brontes waved him off with a hand.

"I will forgive her the lack of formalites," said the Captain. "Sphinx, I have come down here because you begged my audience. Well now you have it and can feel free to speak."

The Sphinx rubbed her paw against her throat. "Very well, _Captain_. But I think your dog's foot hit me in the throat. It might be difficult for me to form my words."

Gyges unsheathed his gladius from his belt. "I'll put more than my foot in your throat, woman!" She crawled hurriedly to the wall of her cell, the grin never leaving her face. It was as if she was enjoying instigating the Guard. At that moment, Brontes became aware of Gyges's wrath. He could remember being down here and dealing with prisoners such as this. Their insubordination could be infuriating, especially down in the Labyrinth, where the Guards were forbidden to use force against the monsters. He decided he would not report this episode to Hades.

"But," she began, "if this Guard was to leave, I should feel more inclined to speak freely." Her grin broadened.

Brontes let out a sigh. This was part of his duties as Captain he despised. Should he give in to a prisoner's demands, which he knew would humiliate his Guard, or risk learning nothing of Medusa's whereabouts. He decided on the former but knew he had to be diplomatic. He looked at Gyges, who stood with his short sword in his hand, poised to stick it in the Sphinx's throat upon his Captain's command.

"Gyges," he said, "please go attend the other prisoners." He looked at the Sphinx. "As for you, know that I will tell my Guard of our conversation. How he decides to handle you from now on will depend on your level of cooperation." _That,_ he thought, _should do it._ Ensuring that that the lioness would share whatever she knew while preserving Gyges's authority. The Hekatonkheires sheathed his gladius and smiled at the Sphinx, daring her to test his Captain's patience. He left the cell without a word.

"Thank you, _Captain_," the Sphinx said sweetly. Her sly grin changed into an innocent smile, the one a daughter might give to her mother upon seeing her after a long absence. "That man of yours is so cruel to me. I do not care much for all his beatings. They hurt me." Her lips changed into a pout and her eyebrows rose up.

"He hurts you so much you see fit to urge him on with your taunts," Brontes replied.

Instantly, her lips dropped into a frown, and her eyebrows creased into a scowl, as if the innocence of her previous look was a mask. "Well," she said, "you put me in to the deepest prison in the world and expect me to stay put in my cell. If I didn't play with your pets, I'm likely to go insane."

"Knowing that you are bored devastates me," he said. "For now, you say you know what happened to Medusa and would only speak to me about it."

"Yes, Captain. I did. It is funny that you never come down to the Labyrinth since your promotion unless something has happened that may cause you great embarrassment should word ever reach Olympus."

"Medusa," he insisted, not taking the bait.

"I wonder who the next High Captain would be after Jupiter finds out. Your brother Arges seems fit for the task. A bit rough, and not as careful with formalities as you may be, but he's stern and unwavering in his sense of duty. Or how about Gyges? Would you like to work under that brute? Probably the dumbest of the Guards as far as I can tell, but he has a dog's obedience to authority, something I'm sure the King of the Gods would appreciate. I can tell you, Captain, Gyges knows how often you stick him down here with Labyrinth duty. More than any other Guard because he is the only one that doesn't complain. I promise you, he won't forget it. He even told me so himself."

"Well since you two are so well acquainted, I shall let him have another conversation with you, but not before I have had one with him myself, of course." Brontes turned around to leave. Let her think he did not mind if she told him what she knew or not.

"How I would love to see the look on Jupiter's face when that time comes."

"A fine trick that would be with you down here." He grabbed the cell door as he stepped out and began to shut it.

"Wait," she said crawling to him. On all fours her head was just above his navel. She sat down on her haunches and gazed up at him, squeezing her breasts together with her shoulders. It was clear to Brontes she wanted him to notice. "I am ever so lonely down here," she reached up with her paw and gently placed it on his thigh. "It has been so long since I've felt the warmth of a male inside me," she slowly edged the paw upwards. "Stay, my _Captain_, and not only will I tell you what happened to Medusa, I will also show you the art of lovemaking that only a lioness knows." She wetted her lips. "You did not think I was actually sleeping when you came to my cell, did you? I only pretended to set your dog off in a blind rage. And he didn't fail. I kept my eyes open, however slightly, and I saw the way you looked at me."

Her smile was seductive with one eyebrow higher than the other. Brontes felt a stiffening against his tunic. The pleasure a woman, either human or creature, was something that Brontes had never known during his existence. Being a Fire Guard, souls of mortal women would offer him and his brothers sex in exchange for a less severe punishment. But punishments were determined by what one had done during life and could not be lessened by what one offered in death. All three Hekatonkheires, he knew, had taken up the offer at least once under the false promise that they had such power of pardon. The other Cyclops, Arges and Steropes, had denied such participation, but he could not be sure if they told him the truth. All that he was sure of was that he himself never did. He knew that when Hades had made him the High Captain of the Fire Guards, it was more than just an award for past performance. It was an obligation to uphold his duty for all time to come. Still, even with his sense of honor, he was aware that the Sphinx's paw so near his crotch felt good.

He backed away, letting her paw fall to the ground. He could not forget what she had done during life. She had guarded the gates of Thebes, posing a riddle to all heroes who tried to enter the city. If the man admitted he did not know or guessed at the answer incorrectly, and there were many who fit such descriptions, she would devour them whole, a painful death for a mortal man.

"You saw the_ way_ I looked at you," he began, "I have only one way of looking." He pointed to his one eye. "You will tell me what happened to Medusa, or you will not. It makes no matter to me." He started pulling the door shut, slowly so that the creaking sound would be loud, then finally slamming it with a loud _Thunk!_ Let it serve as a reminder of where she was.

"Fine," she said, "I _do_ know what happened to the Gorgon. But I will not tell you directly. That would be too easy."

"Very well," Brontes said as he started walking away.

"I will tell you what happened in a riddle."

"I do not care for riddles."

"Oh, but you do, Captain. For you can leave here with either a riddle or nothing."

Brontes stopped and smiled to himself. He had made her work for his attention, instead of the other way around. A riddle from the Sphinx would be nearly impossible to solve, but at least he was getting somewhere with her. If he persisted, he would coax something more.

"No, Sphinx. I do not care for riddles. I would much prefer direct answers."

The Sphinx bowed her head slightly and turned it side to side, never taking her eyes off of him. "Tsk, tsk," she said, "the Sphinx only gives answers in riddles. So if you want to know what happened to Medusa, I suggest you listen. Since the beginning our conversation, you have acted as if you do not care for what I have to say. That is why you are outside my cell." All seduction left her face. "Do you take me for a fool, _Brontes_?" She said his name with poison. "I know you have been playing a game with me, hoping my loneliness would drive me to beg you to stay and hear my words. Do you think I did not notice how slowly you shut the door, giving me ample time to change my mind and start talking? The truth is, you know I am the only one who can help you find your fugitive Medusa. So if you want to hear what I saw, hear to the riddle or go back to the Black Castle."

At that moment, Brontes felt like an idiot. How foolish he was to think he could outsmart the Sphinx! He had no words now. He only stared at her, waiting for her riddle.

"There," she said with a smile, "I knew you liked riddles. There is a river. But instead of water, it is made of liquid gold. On one side is a man who does not walk covered in blood. On the other is a bird who does not fly. Figure out who stands on either side of the river, and you will learn what happened to our dear Medusa."

Brontes felt his skin prickle with irritation. "A man who does not walk and a bird that does not fly. What am I to gather with such information?" He could feel the anger growing in his voice. Would this ridiculous riddle actually lead him to Medusa, or did the Sphinx intend to have him waste time over a puzzle that would lead him nowhere? If the latter were true, he would have to return here. How many could she come up with before giving him anything substantial?

"Tsk, tsk," the Sphinx said again, "you cannot find the answer to a riddle by posing a question." With that, she spun around and went to the other end of the cell. Brontes knew she would give no more clues as to the meaning of her words. He started to leave when he heard her say: "Think Brontes, all you had to do was lie with me, and you could have had the answer. Unfortunate, but it is too late for you now." She smiled and lay back down on her side.

"If the answer to your riddle does not lead me to Medusa, you may get your wish of reacquainting yourself with the warmth of man's cock. But if the answer proves to be fruitless, it will be Gyge's cock that does the fucking."

"If you doubt my intentions in giving you this riddle, know that Medusa means nothing to me. But I am the Sphinx, the guardian of Thebes who let no man enter unless he could solve a riddle. It is my nature, and it would not be fitting if I simply gave you the answer." With that, she rolled over on her side putting her back to him and commenced sleep.

He and Gyges took the iron shaft back up to the Black Castle. Once again, they heard the cries and protests from the damned souls. During the trip, Brontes put the riddle to his Guard and asked if he had any ideas of what it could mean.

"A man who does not walk," said Gyges, "and a bird that does not fly."

"The man is also bloody," Brontes reminded him.

"Seems to me she's wasting your time, Captain. Next time I'm on Labyrinth duty, I'll beat a better answer out of her. I promise you, she won't hold out this time."

The Captain of the Fire Guards shot him a cold look. "You will nothing of the sort, Gyges. I do not like the Sphinx any more than you, but the beating of monsters has been forbidden by Hades since Minos created the Labyrinth. What I saw down there had better not be your usual form of management."

"But," Gyges began with a dumb look on his face, "my Captain, things have changed since you.."

"_You_ will change starting now."

Gyges bowed his head. "Yes Captain."

The two Guards stepped off the iron shaft and into the main hallway of the Black Castle. He knew he had to ponder the riddle with the utmost fervor to find its answer, but first he needed to speak to Cottus, the Guard on Labyrinth duty when the Gorgon disappeared.

"Our brother won't be in his chamber, Captain," said Gyges. "You have assigned him the task of training some more souls to be sentries. He will be outside the last stone wall with the Hydra, just in case any of them decide to make a run for freedom."

"Very well. I shall await his return then. You are dismissed." Gyges bowed again and headed for his chamber to catch some much needed sleep.

The Cyclops sat at the table and poured himself a glass of wine. He tried to concentrate on the riddle, when his eyelids began to close against his will. He had not realized how tired he had been, and the wine did nothing to sharpen his wits. He decided to surrender to a few moments of sleep, hoping he would awake with the proper energy he needed to solve the riddle.

As darkness encircled his mind and his limbs went limp, he dreamt a dream he had not had in years. He was on the Sand Dungeon, not as a Fire Guard like moments earlier, but as a prisoner. He saw the dragon Campe standing underneath the Opening, the only way out. Her eyes forever open and her head constantly shifting from side to side. There was nothing he could do without her knowing it. He looked to his left and to his right. His brothers were standing next to him, gazing at the opening of the Pit, as if they were expecting something or someone to come down. He touched his brother Arges on the shoulder and asked him what they were waiting for. Arges made no reply. In fact, he did not even seem to notice being touched on the shoulder. Brontes did the same to the rest of his brothers, walking among them while they stood like statues, their gaze fixed upon the Opening. Finally, he heard Cottus whisper the word "_Brothers."_

"Yes," Brontes said to him, "we are all brothers and we are all here. Why do the rest of them not move. For what do we wait?"

Suddenly, Brontes heard hurried footsteps on the sand behind him. He turned to see Campe crawling away from her usual post. _What could this be,_ he thought. _Will we finally be granted freedom? Has father decided to release us?_

_NO!_ The answer came to him before his previous thoughts of release could finish forming. He knew what day this was. It was a day he had re-lived many times over in his sleep during the years following the Titanomachy. He was not sure of the last time he dreamt of this moment, but he knew what would happen as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. This was the day his brother, Saturn, had come down to Tartarus.

Gaia, their mother, had aided Saturn in overthrowing his father, Uranus, under the promise that the new King would free both the Cyclops and the Hekatonkheires after victory. And now he was here, with his eleven brothers and sisters behind him. Each of the Twelve was flawless in physical appearance. The six brothers were all tall, broad, and handsome. The sisters were so stunning, that Brontes and the other prisoners all shed tears at witnessing such beauty for the first time in their existence. The Twelve all had smiles on their faces and eyes wide open. They appeared to be joyous at finally seeing their lost brothers for the first time. Saturn, who stood in front of his siblings with his hands on his waist and his chest out, had the brightest smile of all. Upon seeing him, Brontes had wanted to take his hand and kiss it, swearing unending fealty to his brother who was the new King.

But it did not happen that way. The part of the dream that Brontes hated most was about to happen, and he clenched his teeth. The joy that could be seen all over Saturn's face only lasted a second, maybe two. When Campe had finally gotten out of the way, allowing the Titans a clear look at their brothers, Saturn's smile instantly turned into a frown. His eyebrows dropped into a scowl. The creases on his forehead looked like canyons, visible even to Brontes and his brothers, who stood a hundred yards away from his brother. It was a look of utter disgust. For a moment, all was still with the new King standing there, glaring at his brothers. In the dream, Brontes quickened his breathing, hoping it would end sooner. At the moment, it was clear that Gaia had never told her son what his imprisoned brothers looked like. When they were born, Uranus flew into a blind rage at their ugliness and threw them down into Tartarus before the Titans could ever see them.

Saturn's glare was so intense, Brontes did not even notice if the looks on the faces of the other eleven changed. This time, in his dream, he tried to look, but all their heads were hidden behind a gray, shapeless blur. Without a word, the new King, the one who had come down promising freedom, turned his back on his brothers. He walked to the Opening, leaped up, and was out of sight. After he did, there were only the Cyclops, the Hekatonkheires, and the other eleven Titans.

Their faces had looks of confusion, instead of contempt like Saturn's. They turned to look to each other, each one expecting someone else to speak up. But none of them did. Wordlessly, like their brother, each of them turned their backs on the prisoners. One by one, they each leapt up, until they were all gone. Brontes, refusing to accept his fate without a fight, like he had when this day really happened, tried to run after them. He was not sure what he wanted more: freedom or vengeance. Before he could reach them, the dragon Campe crawled forward, blocking his escape. Normally, the sight of his reptilian warden would cause him to freeze in his tracks and quell any notions of escape. She was stronger than all of them, and had claws, teeth, and a tail sharp as knives. But in his dream, he kept running straight at the dragon, all her strength and weapons be damned. He could hear the voices of his brothers behind him, beckoning him to stop. But he did not listen.

Campe opened her mouth as if to swallow him whole. He tried to leap over her, a foolish act, but he had no other way of reach the Opening. She caught him in midair, and her teeth sunk deep into his flesh. It was a pain he had never felt before. He felt a thousand swords, some made of fire and some made of ice, pierce into every inch of his body. Wild tremors coursed through his muscles as he squirmed to break free. His vision started turning red, like he was being plunged into a pool of blood. The redness faded to black, and then no colors at all.

Brontes sat up in his chair, breathing rapidly while sweat poured down his brow and into his eye. He wiped his face against the bottom part of his tunic and cursed himself for having that dream again. He thought he had rid himself of it, but now it had branded itself into his mind again. _Well_, he though, _at least it will remind me that the Titans' sentences are just_. He hoped the thought would give him comfort. It did not. When he realized that the dream had the power to send him into a helpless thrall of despair, he decided it best to set his mind to the task at hand. He did not know how long he had been asleep, but he hoped that Cottus would be back in his chamber to see if he knew anything that would help explain Medusa's escape.

He knocked on the door of the Hekatonkheires's chamber. No reply came, but he heard the sound of sheets being ruffled, as if someone was hurrying out of bed. It must have been Cottus startled from a peaceful slumber. Brontes spoke in a low tone.

"Cottus. It is Brontes. I need to speak to you about the last time you were on Labyrinth duty." This time there was no tossing of the sheets, only shallow breaths, as if the breather was nervous. Perhaps the Guard was having the same dream as he was. He felt a rise in chest. If his brother shared the same dream as him, then Cottus would be someone for him to confide in. He was about to speak again, when he noticed something peculiar about the breaths. Not only were they rapid, but they were irregular. Instead of the usual inhale followed by exhale followed by inhale and son on, there was a pair of each followed by a pair of the other. _Inhale. Inhale. Exhale. Exhale._ It was as if Cottus was breathing two sets of breath. The man did have fifty heads, but Brontes had never seen a Hekatonkheires whose heads did not speak, breathe, smile, or blink all at the same time. And both sets of breaths had distinctly different tones. Who could Cottus have had in there with him? The Fire Guards rarely had visitors, certainly none they would want to share their chambers with.

He opened the door slightly and called his brother's name. He immediately heard the crawling of hands and feet on stone. When he opened it all the way, he could see that Cottus had in fact not come back at all. Instead, his chamber had two young, beautiful women who looked up at Brontes with fear plain across their faces. The one on the bed was tall and thin, with bronze skin, almond eyes, and deep black eyes above high cheekbones. She was clutching the sheet of Cottus's bed over her breasts. Her long legs were bare on the other side of the bed. The one curled up naked in the corner was equally beautiful, with the same almond eyes on high cheekbones. But she was short, her skin pale, and her body endowed with voluptuous curves. Both stared at the Cyclops wide-eyed, their breathing growing more and more rapid.

Before Brontes could free his thoughts from the shock and think of something to say, he noticed that the woman on the bed was lying on scattered gold coins. There were so many that some had dropped onto the floor. Their reflection of the light from the torches caused him to shield his lone eye. He had never seen such treasure in one place before. When he came to the bed to pick one up, the dark-skinned woman hurried off it to join the other on of the floor. He held the coin between his fingers and examined it closely. It was round, flat, and had the picture of a falcon carved into it. The base of the falcon's neck was attached to the shoulder of a man. Only the shoulders were on the coin, but Brontes felt it safe to assume it would have the entire body of a human.

Brontes took in a quick breath as he remembered the Sphinx's riddle. She had talked about a river made of pure liquid gold and of a bird that does not fly. Could this trinket he held in his fingers be two parts of the answer? It must have been. But who, then, was the bloody man who could not walk?

Before the Cyclops could think of a possible answer, he noticed tiny letters carved near the edge of the coin above the falcon's head. _Aegyptus_. These coins had come from Egypt.


End file.
